


I'm the Only

by Desirae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Experienced Castiel, Geek Dean, Goth Castiel, Insecure Dean, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Professor Dean Winchester, Smut, Tattoo Artist Castiel, Top Castiel, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 00:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12096477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desirae/pseuds/Desirae
Summary: Dean cleared his throat. “It’s just, if she did something really bad, maybe Charlie didn’t tell me for a reason. Like, say you cheated on me. If there was the slightest chance I was going to forgive you, I probably wouldn’t tell Charlie about it because I wouldn’t want to taint her image of you.”“Woah, wait. You think about me cheating on you?” The outraged tone of Cas’ voice had Dean wanting to backtrack fast.“No, no you’re missing the point. I am just saying IF you cheated on me-”“If I cheated on you? If I cheated on my husband whom I have loved since high school, who I am utterly devoted to?” Cas’ face had pinkened in his ire and Dean wished he had kept his mouth shut.When Professor Winchester makes an offhand remark on the way to his sexy husband's tattoo convention, it sends them both on a trip down memory lane, back to High School, where popular goth, Castiel, made it his mission to win the heart of quiet, bookworm Dean. A story of blooming first love that grew into forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my contribution to the Dean/Cas tropefest. The art is done by the AMAZING [Horrorfemme](http://horrorfemme1138.tumblr.com/) and I just adore it sooo much. I can't thank her enough!!! Click on her name to see the main art post and show her some love.
> 
> So much love&appreciation to my teapot Bekki for being the best alpha reader and beta a girl could have <3
> 
> A big thank you to the lovely mods of this challenge xoxo
> 
> And yes, in case anyone was wondering, these are actual Pop Culture classes that are available to students:)
> 
> Happy reading, I hope you enjoy! You can find me here on [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/DesiraeSterite) and [Tumblr](https://desiraelovesdestiel.tumblr.com)

 

__

 

 

_Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock._ The sound of the second hand moving along the cheap traditional _Uline_ wall clock echoed in the quiet classroom. It was Thursday and the long weekend was calling. Professor Dean Winchester leaned against his desk as he stared out at the sea of faces in his _Harry Potter: What’s real, fantasy or Folklore_ course. Dean taught pop culture at Hunter University in Angel Cove, Connecticut. Before this class he’d had _Science from Superheroes_ and following it was _Pop Culture in Gaming_ which required his students have a smartphone and a data plan. That class was probably his favorite so far that semester and it would culminate in a huge Humans Vs Zombies RPG event.

Essentially, Dean’s job was to be a geek and teach others to follow him down the rabbit hole of spells, chain mail, and soon, ink and Vulcans, as next semester began his _Philosophy from Star Trek_ and _History of Tattoos_ courses. Dean had the best job in the world. However, that did not mean he wasn’t happier than a Hobbit sitting down to second breakfast at the thought of leaving early for a long weekend.

There was currently a heated discussion between two of his students, Becky Rosen and Kevin Tran on which _Harry Potter_ creature was more probable to exist in reality. Discussion halted as the door to the small lecture hall creaked open.

Quite a few heads turned when a tall, sinfully attractive man entered the lecture hall. Dean couldn’t blame them. The blue-eyed man with the messy dark bed-head certainly stood out. It wasn’t just the eyeliner. It was the pierced brow and bottom lip. It was the leather braided bracelet adorning his wrist and the black script that ran up and down both of the arms that were exposed in his black tee shirt. Dean caught the man’s eye and smiled widely. In return he was given a lascivious wink. Dean settled back against his desk again as he watched the man recline back in his seat, putting a booted foot up on the back rest of the empty chair in front of him. Black painted nails drummed a silent beat on his jean clad knee. With one final greedy look, Dean turned his attention back to his class.

“Alright, you were saying Becky?” Dean said, drawing his student’s focus back to the debate.

“Did you not _see_ the documentary on the body of the mermaid found on the beach? The one on _Animal Planet_?” Becky’s voice was shrill in her frustration. Kevin’s scoff of disgust made Dean’s mouth twitch as he held back a laugh.

“Seriously, Becky? That whole thing was a hoax, it was all CGI. Please tell me you’re not that gullible.”

“That’s not the point, Kevin!”

“Oh, it’s not? Cause you basing your whole argument on a fake video makes me question your intelligence.”

“Kevin,” Dean stood up straighter, schooling the humor out of his voice. “Tread lightly. It’s a debate, no insults.”

“The point,” Becky started again with a long suffering huff, “Is even if it was fake, it still had some valid scientific points. And let’s not forget that 90 percent of the ocean is undiscovered territory.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t hold my breath for Ariel to pop up on shore anytime soon.”

Kevin was saved Becky’s scathing remark when the door in the back of the room pushed open again. Dean nodded in greeting as his best friend Charlie Bradbury slid into the classroom. She was often a guest lecturer in his Gaming class, so many of his students knew who she was, and she would be covering his next class. Charlie was a computer genius and the mastermind behind the _Moondoor Chronicles_ , an online fantasy game that branched out into live action role play. Dean saw a few of his students eyes widen as she leaned down to whisper something into the dark-haired man in the back’s ear.

“Hey, no gossiping in class,” Dean said in mock annoyance as he heard them laugh, Charlie’s light and musical, the man’s gravelly and smokey.

Dean glanced at the clock again as Charlie took what looked like a key out of Mr. Hot McWhiskey-voice’s palm before she left the room, opening and closing her hand at him in the ‘5 minutes’ gesture.

“You in a hurry, professor?” Cole Turner called from the right side of the room.

“Actually, yeah, “ Dean said with a laugh.

“Hot date?” Cole asked and a few students snickered, while the man in the back sat up straight, eying Dean coyly.

Dean laughed. “Weekend away, with my husband.”

“You're married?” Hester Brown asked from the back.

“To a dude?” Cole’s voice was incredulous.

Dean cocked a brow at the youth who was now blushing slightly. “Is that a problem?”

“Uh. N-no, course not. You just don’t really...sound gay.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “We don’t all sound like Carson Kressley.”

“Who’s Carson Kressley?” came a chorus of voices and Dean groaned.

“When did I get so old?”

Becky leaned forward in her seat, chin propped on her hand. “What’s your husband’s name?”

“Weren’t you discussing mermaids?” Dean reminded her.

“Please, this is way more interesting. And there’s only like two minutes left of class.”

Dean sighed in acquiescence. “Castiel,” Dean said softly, meeting the gaze of the man in the back. “His name is Castiel.”

“Where did you meet?” Kevin piped up.

“High School,” Dean replied with a glance at the clock, “now pack up your stuff. Class is over, go enjoy the weekend,”

As the class began putting their notebooks away, the man in the back stood up lazily. He stretched, pressing his interlaced fingers towards the ceiling, and Dean’s eyes caught on the flash of tanned skin revealed. Blue eyes locked on Dean’s green as the man started down the aisle to where Dean was lounging against his desk. A few students, Becky of course, lingered as he crowded right up into Dean’s space.

Dean was assaulted with the scent of cinnamon, orange and if he wasn’t mistaken, a hint of weed, which would not surprise him in the slightest. Dean smiled gently as he watched the man in front of him fiddle with his tongue ring before looping strong arms around his neck. In turn, Dean trailed his hands down the sides of his plain black tee shirt until he settled on sharp hip bones.

“Hello, Dean,” came a raspy voice that could sand wood.

“Heya, Cas,” Dean replied, before he found his mouth captured in a soft, open-mouthed kiss.

“Clear out Rosen, Turner, Tran. I got a class to teach and I don’t believe any of you are in it,” floated Charlie’s voice from somewhere in the room. Dean couldn’t tell for sure, as his eyes were closed, relishing in the hello from his gorgeous husband.

* * *

 

  
  
Dean adjusted his sunglasses as the setting sun shone through the windshield of his car as he cruised down I-95 north. He had his left hand at the wheel and his right was clasped with Cas’. Even while he dozed, Castiel still gripped him so tightly. He looked so tranquil when he was sleeping. His eyelashes formed dark crescents against his skin and soft puffs of air escaped his slightly parted lips. If Dean didn’t have to drive, he could easily watch Cas slumber for hours without complaint. Nearly thirteen years together, and the man still made him feel as though butterflies were dancing in his stomach.

Dean could never forget the first time Castiel had spoken to Dean. They’d been juniors at Wesson High School, in North Wesson Connecticut.. It had been a brutal winter, but the beginning of March had brought with it a thaw. After weeks and weeks trapped inside, the chill had finally lifted enough that the students were able to enjoy a bit of sunshine by having lunch and study periods outside. Under the watchful eye of Principal Moseley, of course. Dean rubbed his thumb across Cas’ as his mind wandered down memory lane.


	2. Chapter 2

_2004_

 

Dean pushed his reading glasses back up the bridge of his freckled nose as they slipped down for the umpteenth time. He huffed out an impatient breath, vowing to get laser surgery as soon as he was able. Contacts irritated his eyes and no matter how many times he adjusted his frames, they still slid down his face. Thank God he only needed them for reading.

A deep, raspy chuckle to the right of the courtyard snagged Dean’s attention from atop his perch on the stone wall that bordered the high school. He closed his battered copy of _Cat’s Cradle_ and allowed himself a moment to observe the group of teens across the yard by the large oak tree.

The owner of the laughter that had snared Dean’s scrutiny was that of Castiel Novak. Dean thought he was the most stunning creature he’d ever seen. They had gone to school together their whole lives and Dean doubted the gorgeous boy even knew his name. Dean and Castiel did not run in the same social circles.

Where Dean was quite firmly entrenched in the nerd group, Castiel  somehow managed to straddle cliques. He dressed like one of the goths. Messy black hair, eyebrow and lip piercings on the most beautiful mouth Dean had ever seen. Wide, pink and slightly chapped...not that Dean had studied Cas’ mouth all that much. _No. Never. Hardly ever_ . Castiel wore black everything, from his skinny jeans to his baggy black wool sweater. The only pop of color was his eyes. They were the deepest, brightest blue Dean had ever seen. Eyes that were watching him right now. _Shit_ . Dean quickly turned away. The last thing he wanted to do was be THAT guy. He refused to be that guy. Half of the student body had already tried to capture and keep Castiel Novak and Dean wasn’t stupid enough to try. With Castiel’s social standing, he was popular amongst many in the school, but he certainly didn’t hang out with Dean and his pals in the _Dungeons and Dragons_ club. No, Castiel was in with the goth crew that he hung out with at lunch. He was close(extremely close to some) with the guys on the track team, where Castiel took first in state last year, then there was the cheerleaders and members of the color guard he went through like tic tacs, that fell all over themselves to get his attention, and he was pretty well known in drama club too. Not so much for acting, but for getting caught with two guys in the prop room. Yes, Castiel Novak was not going to notice shy, perpetually geeky Dean Winchester, with the Star Wars tee-shirts and Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVD collection. No, the only cool thing about Dean was his car. A black 67 Chevy Impala his Dad gave him before he left Dean and his mom and brother to go rehab, and never came back.

When Dean deemed it safe enough to peer back at the unattainable object of his affections, his stomach twisted in knots. Leaning against the wide oak that covered Castiel and his friend in shade, the teen was lazily making out with the current head cheerleader, Meg Masters. If Dean’s proclivities didn’t run strictly to men, he would find her very attractive. Her sable hair framed a heart-shaped face in waves and her mouth, when not otherwise engaged, was a perfect, red cupid’s bow. A cupid’s bow that was drawn up tight in annoyance as Dean was caught gawking yet again.

God, he was such a creeper. He quickly looked down, pulling the edges of his red and black plaid flannel over his Flash tee-shirt nervously. He occupied his gaze to his own group of friends, self-proclaimed geeks, who were sitting at a nearby picnic table playing _Magic the Gathering_.

“Blocked, bitches,” he heard his best friend Charlie shout triumphantly. Dean felt a smile steal up his face at his friend’s exuberance and he almost missed the sound of a throat clearing to his right. _Almost_.

Dean turned his head and looked up from his perch and his eyes widened.

“Do we have a problem over here, Winchester?” Hearing that gravelly voice addressed solely at him coupled with the fact that Castiel apparently did in fact know his name, struck Dean speechless for a moment. Castiel arched an intimidating brow as if to say ‘well?’

“N-no Castiel, there’s no problem,” Dean hated how breathy his voice had come out and mentally bitch-slapped himself for sounding like such a girl.

Castiel nodded slowly. “Okay, well you’re sure doing a damn good ‘Perks of being a Wallflower' impression, so maybe tone it down with the staring.”

Dean could not stop the blush that stole up his face as he was compared to the socially awkward character they had just read about in English class. And of course, that was when he noticed that Meg had sidled up to Castiel’s side and was laughing at him.

“Aw, Clarence, look at him blush. Freckles has a crush on you!”

Dean’s stomach dropped, he was utterly mortified that Meg had read him so easily. Dean didn’t wait to see what Castiel’s reaction was to that horrifying truth. He hopped off of the wall as quickly as possible, _Vonnegut_ book forgotten. He walked as fast as he could without essentially running away. Dean didn’t look back, even when he heard Charlie and Garth call after him.

* * *

 

_Now_

 

Dean was brought back to the present when he felt long fingers play across the nape of his neck as he merged onto I-93 south.

“What are you thinking about so intensely, my love?”

Dean pushed his aviators up on top of his head now that the sun had dipped down lower and the glare was gone. He slid his gaze to Castiel’s. His husband was staring at him with naked affection, lips quirked in a lopsided smile. He was always doing that, calling Dean by some romantic, if not old-fashioned endearment and it always made the flutters start up in his belly. Dean forced his eyes back to the road.

“I was thinking of the first day you spoke to me. When I was staring at you like a creeper,” Dean said with a self-deprecating laugh.

“Aw, darling, you weren't a creeper. You were just shy.”

“ _Pfft._ ”

“And adorable. Those beautiful moss green eyes hidden behind your reading glasses…”

“Cas,” Dean whined, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Castiel raised his pierced brow sharply, which never failed to make Dean’s cock twitch in interest. “You can call me beautiful, but I can’t say the same to you?”

“Because you _are_ beautiful.” It was an old argument and it would end the way it always did-with some grade A deflection.

“Did you give Charlie the house key?” Dean asked.

Castiel rolled his black-lined eyes. “You know that I did. She will be happily camping out with Weasley for the long weekend, binging Netflix and giving Jo the silent treatment," Castiel said with humor in his voice.

Weasley was their orange tabby. He was just a malnourished bag of bones when they first got him. Castiel had discovered him in the back of the building of his tattoo shop. _The Angel’s Canvas_ had been closed that day so Castiel could catch up on some paperwork. When he found the little thing mewling outside, he took his new little friend to the vets for shots, followed by a trip to _PetSmart_ where he spent more on supplies and cat toys than he did on him and Dean’s little niece's Christmas presents.

“Why is she ignoring Jo? Is everything okay there?” Dean asked, concerned. Jo Harvelle was an old friend of Dean’s family, and he had been the one to introduce her to Charlie when Jo decided to move to town.

Castiel rubbed at the back of Dean’s neck. “I'm not sure. Charlie didn't say much, just that Jo had fucked up. I mean, she didn’t seem like she was in a bad mood,” Castiel pointed out and Dean had to agree. She’d seemed in decent spirits.

“Hopefully it’s nothing serious then. She would have called me, I’d think. Maybe. Then again...”

“What?” Cas’ hand stilled in their circular motion.

Dean cleared his throat. “It’s just, if she did something really bad, maybe Charlie didn’t tell me for a reason. Like, say you cheated on me. If there was the _slightest_ chance I was going to forgive you, I probably wouldn’t tell Charlie about it, because I wouldn’t want to taint her image of you.”

“Woah, wait. You think about me cheating on you?” The outraged tone of Cas’ voice had Dean wanting to backtrack fast.

“No, no you’re missing the point. I am just saying IF you cheated on me-”

“If I cheated on you? If I cheated on my husband whom I have loved since high school, who I am utterly devoted to?” Cas’ face had pinkened in his ire and Dean wished he had kept his mouth shut. He wished they had time to pull over at one of the upcoming rest stops because arguing while driving was not his favorite thing; but Dean knew they needed to get to the hotel on time so Cas could make his meet and greet. They were headed to a tattoo convention in Boston. Cas would be there to network and show off his work, and Dean was going for the free hotel where he could fuck his husband in a hot tub.

“Castiel, please calm down. I am not saying that I believe that you are planning on cheating on me. I know you are too straightforward for that. If you became bored or unhappy, I know that you would man up and just say so.”

“Fuck. You.”

Okay, so apparently that hadn’t been the right thing to say either.

“Cas-”

“No. Do not speak to me right now. I am so furious with you, my insides are shaking.”

Castiel pulled his hand back into his lap and Dean felt the loss like a missing limb. He ran what he had said over and over in his head, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong and what had his husband sitting so rigid as he stared out the window.

To say the rest of the ride was uncomfortable would be an understatement.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

There was a tense silence as Castiel and Dean entered their room at the  _ Marriott. _ Cas wheeled his Tattoo case he used for conventions over to the table by the balcony. Inside were his  liners and shaders ,  his ink, stencils, and pretty much everything else he would need for the three days they would be there. Cas pulled back the curtain and took in the view of  _ Copley Place _ at twilight. The lights on the neighboring buildings were lit up and the dark purple hue of the sky gave it a dreamy quality. He opened up the door to the balcony and stepped outside. He could feel Dean’s eyes on him, knew that if he turned and looked, the green pools would be filled a naked longing that he was too angry to feed right now.

Despite it only being early March, the air was warm. It held the hint of exhaust, ocean and a mix of different cuisine, Chinese being one of the primary scents standing out. Cas turned around and leaned against the dark metal railing, his back to the city scape. He watched Dean run an agitated hand through his burnt honey hair. His husband was meticulously putting everything in its place as he unpacked it one by one from the suitcase. That was something Dean did when he was upset or stressed out. He cleaned and organized. Cas felt a rush of affection as Dean carefully carried their toiletries to the bathroom. From Castiel’s vantage point, he could see him line everything up neatly on the marbled vanity. He saw Dean sigh and scrub a hand down his stubbled face before bracing his hands on the counter, shoulders tense, head down.

Oh what the years had done to his love’s body. Dean had always been beautiful. At seventeen, he was untouched art. Flawless, nearly feminine, with lighter, blonder hair. His eyes, behind his glasses were wide and green like the rolling hills and he had a mouth too pretty for words. He was smooth, bare and slight, the very definition of a twink. Castiel’s mouth quirked in a smile of fond remembrance. Yes, seventeen year old Dean was gorgeous. But thirty year old Dean was breathtaking.

Without glasses in the way, the golden flecks danced in the fern green of his eyes when they caught the light just right, laugh lines crinkling in the corner. His face had lost the baby fat of youth and his cheekbones had sharpened, but his perfect pink lips were just as delicious as they had been as a teenager. Dean’s hair had darkened to a rich caramel, and like Cas, without daily shaving, a stubble took over his face. A face that when smiling, could bring Castiel, literally, to his knees.

No longer slight, Dean’s body had filled out. He was broad shouldered with a firm chest adorned with a protection symbol tattoo that Cas had inked himself. There was a slight softness around Dean’s belly that Castiel relished marking up with bites and sucking kisses. And his legs. His gorgeous bowed legs that were the perfect vee for snuggling between during marathon’s of Doctor Sexy, or when they were hitched around Cas’ waist as he stroked into his husband’s tight channel. Dean was stunning, though to tell him so resulted in eye rolling and a subject change. Dean’s insecurity in himself was infuriating. What was worse was that it wasn’t done for attention, which Castiel would have been able to  just laugh off. No, this was a deeply embedded issue that Cas knew originated with Dean’s father and schoolyard teasing.

Dean must have felt the weight of Castiel’s gaze, because his husband raised his head and turned to lock his eyes with Cas’ from his place in front of the mirror. Castiel recognized that look.

* * *

 

  
  


_ 2004 _

 

Castiel picked at the chipping nail polish on his thumb as he leaned against the grey metal lockers. Under his arm was a copy of  _ Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle _ that had seen better days. Cas fiddled with his tongue ring in his mouth as he waited for the 7th period bell to ring. A few inquiries had netted him the location of Winchester’s locker.

When the bell rang, Castiel spotted Dean coming out of the English wing, laughing with the pretty little red head he’d seen call after Dean when he’d run off at lunch. They parted ways with the fucking Vulcan Salute,  _ Good lord _ , and Dean still had a faint smile on his face as he headed in Cas’ direction. It slipped away as Dean’s eyes met Castiel’s. The teen’s expression turned quickly from content, to weary resignation tinged with fear.

Wordlessly, Castiel held up the boy’s book. Dean’s pink tongue peeked out to brush his lips nervously. “Thanks.”

“No problem. You left in such a hurry and judging by its condition, I assume it’s well loved, yes?”

Dean paused in the act of putting his books on the top shelf to look at him quizzically. Castiel glanced on the door of the locker and saw a picture of Dean smiling widely with his arm slung around a young boy’s neck. The kid looked to be around twelve or thirteen and had long hair and a mischievous grin.

“Look,” Dean said, drawing Cas’ gaze away from the picture. “You don’t have to do the thing, okay?” Dean shut his locker sharply and began to trek down the hall. Cas hurried to catch up to him.

“What do you mean, ‘ _ do the thing’ _ ?” Cas cocked his head and Dean slowed his stride, rolling his eyes.

“The ‘ _ be nice to the poor loser with a crush _ ’ thing. It’s not necessary, dude. Thanks for the book, but we don’t have to talk. Like, at all.”

Castiel found himself laughing as they breached the outside doors and started down the stone steps. “You ever think that maybe I want to talk to you?”

“Oh, sure. Castiel Novak, king of the school, suddenly has interest in me. Did Meg put you up to this?“ They had stopped in the middle of the parking lot and Castiel could feel eyes on them from the groups of teens hurrying to escape for the weekend.

“Meg didn’t put me up to anything. I just thought I should get to know you.”

“Why?” Dean’s tone was incredulous. “Is this some sort of geek outreach program?” Dean nodded his head towards a Corolla a few rows down. “Isn’t that your drama club buddy? Fetch, or whatever? Go play with him.”

Castiel snorted. “It’s Ketch, actually, and I don’t want to ‘ _ play with him _ ’, I just want to talk to you,” Cas could see the genuine confusion on Dean’s face and wondered why it was so hard for him to believe that he wanted to have a conversation with the guy.

“Yes, you keep saying that, but why now? We’ve gone to school together since Kindergarten.”

Castiel pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I mean, we’ve never interacted before, but today...I kept feeling you staring at me. Kept catching you, too,” Dean blushed endearingly, “you’re obviously smart, you read  _ Vonnegut _ and honestly, you are easy on the eyes.”

Dean scoffed.

“I just thought you might like to go out with me sometime.”

This time Dean outright laughed and Castiel couldn’t help but feel offended.

“Look, man, you are gorgeous. I am not going to lie. It’s not like I haven’t fantasized about it, along with half of the school. But I am not going to be your next conquest. I’m not some prize to be won.”

Castiel raised his brow, “Did you just ‘ _ Princess Jasmine _ ’ me?”

“Uh..yeah, I think I did,” Dean shook his head as if from a fog, “Either way, the sentiment stands. I have no plans on being your next golden retriever,” Dean said, indicating the Corolla again.

“It’s Ketch, and don’t believe every rumor you hear.”

“So you didn’t fuck him in the prop room while some other dude watched?”

“I-”

“And you’re not currently sleeping with Meg Masters and Balthazar Roche?”

“Well-”

“And you didn’t fuck Aaron in debate, or Kelvin in track, or April and Nora from color guard?”

Castiel sighed, because he honestly had no response.

“Look, if you want to talk, we can talk. If you want to, I don’t know, become friends? I am down for that. But no way am I becoming one of your string of bed warmers.”

Castiel couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed when Dean put it that way, but he brushed it aside. Dean was intriguing. He was smart and despite shy appearances, apparently took no shit from anyone.

“Alright, Winchester. I accept your conditions with the option to ask you out again at the end of each month in case you change your mind,” Castiel smiled cheekily.

Dean laughed. “Alright, deal,” the young man said before starting down the row of cars. Castiel fell in step with him. Dean paused beside a behemoth of a vehicle, shiny and black and obviously a classic.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Dean asked as he fished keys out of the pocket of his jeans.

“We’re friends now, I need a ride home.”

Dean rolled his eyes and Cas was tempted to tell him if he kept doing that, they would get stuck that way.

“Well, come on then. I gotta pick up my brother by 3pm,”  Dean nodded his head at the car and Castiel goggled.

“Wait, this is yours? You fucking rich or something?” Castiel ran a hand along the side reverently before opening up the passenger side door. He slid in and smelled leather and a hint of sandalwood and musk that was purely Dean.

“Hardly,” the freckled teen said as he started up the car, patting her steering wheel with affection. “Baby was my Dad’s. He gave her to me to take care of while he was ...away. But then he died, so...”

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Castiel said, reaching out to grip Dean’s shoulder.

“S’okay,” Dean said gruffly before shaking off the somber mood. “You like Zeppelin?”


	4. Chapter 4

_Now_

 

Castiel came in from the balcony and made his way to Dean in the bathroom. Dean turned to face him and Castiel brought his hands up to cup his cheeks. He brushed the stubbled skin with his thumbs as his eyes tried to convey his feelings to the man in front of him.

“I love you, always. Even when I am mad,” Castiel said, reverently, before pulling Dean’s mouth to his. Dean let out a sigh and Cas swallowed it as he licked his way into his husband’s mouth. Castiel coaxed Dean’s tongue with his own, each gentle pass a promise that even when in discord, they were still okay. When Cas pulled back, Dean kept his eyes closed. “Meet me downstairs, I have to check in and check out my station.”

Eyes still closed, Dean nodded.

Castiel left Dean in the bathroom and headed over to their temporary bureau. He whipped his black-tee shirt over his head, exchanging it for a fresh one of Dean’s embossed with the _AC/DC_ logo. He left on his jeans, they were fine. He checked to make sure his liner was still okay and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. Figuring he looked as good as he was going to get, Cas pocketed one of the room keys and slipped out, the sound of the shower being turned on cutting off abruptly as the door shut behind him. His thoughts continued to wander as he took the elevator down stairs.

Dean and Castiel had been close friends after that first day, but it took a long time for Dean to trust Cas enough to grant him that first date. Castiel had had a lot to prove. It became quite the gossip when he stopped his extracurriculars with the school populace. He still hung out with his friends from his goth crew at lunch, but he stopped sleeping with Meg and Balthazar. Meg rebounded fairly quickly with Ketch from Drama. Dean still had his _Dungeons and Dragon_ club and Cas still ran track, though he kept everything strictly G rated with his teammates. When the new girl, Hannah, joined the color guard, he’d surprised Dean by setting her up with his friend Benny instead of nailing her himself. _Jesus Christ Dean, I do have some self control. How the fuck can I woo you if I am screwing other people?_ Dean had snorted at the word woo, and clapped him on the shoulder with a hearty _Good luck with that, buddy._

The elevator dinged and Cas stepped out into the lobby. He followed the signs over the entryway _._

_Restaurant_

_Gift shop_

_Function room_

_Restrooms_

Function room, that’s where he needed to be, he noted, mind still stuck in the past. As Dean and Cas had become friends, Castiel learned about Dean’s family; how his mother Mary was a trauma nurse,often working overnights. How his Dad John had come back from the war just a little bit wrong and coped by drinking, and subsequently left to go to rehab and died of alcohol poisoning when he checked himself out and holed up in a motel drinking all night. Cas learned how Dean had a part time job at _Singer Salvage_ with his Uncle Bobby and he made dinner and helped his brother Sam with his homework every night. Dean never partied because he just didn’t have the time. He only had a small core group of friends because he needed people he knew he could count on.

In turn, Castiel told Dean about how his parents pretty much didn’t pay him any attention so long as his grades were okay and he stayed out of the way when they had guests. He even admitted that a big part of his promiscuousness had been just to see if he could get them to _care_ about what he did with his life _._ Naomi and Marv Novak couldn’t care less if Castiel smoked pot, so long as he aired out the room and continued to place first in track. When Dean asked how it was that Cas became so popular as opposed to being teased or called a freak like so many other kids who dared to be different tended to be, Castiel had said he thought it was back in 8th grade. That was when the main school bully, Dick Roman, began targeting Castiel, and he put a stop to it quick with a knockout punch. It had jump-started his reputation as a badass and carried with him through high school. Castiel had also taken self defense classes because as his Uncle Crowley had reminded him, it’s hard enough being different but even harder when you are part of the LGBT community. And since Castiel didn’t consider gender a factor when choosing who he wanted to fuck around with, that put him firmly in that group.

Castiel was proud to say, he’d helped Dean to learn to relax a little. Introduced him to the joys of sleeping on the beach in a sleeping bag, sharing a blunt and watching the stars. He taught him how to sneak in the school at night to go skinny dipping, though Dean had insisted on keeping his batman boxers on. Dean taught Cas how to change his oil, how to make homemade tomato and rice soup and the fun that could be had in schooling little brothers in _Mario Kart_ on _Gamecube_.

Castiel walked up to the check in booth and gave his name. He didn’t acknowledge the obvious eye fuck the young rainbow-haired volunteer gave him and just went on in to find his section. The areas were all separated by screens and he would have a small space to set up his booth tomorrow. There were client chairs provided so he could do some tattooing, nothing elaborate. He had select set of tattoos for people to choose from that would allow him to see the most customers he could in the ten hour time frame he had for each day. Castiel would set out books of his more elaborate work for people to go through and he would wear a sleeveless tank; easy to take on and off to show the elaborate black wings that stretched from the tops of his shoulders, tapering down to the small of his back. His protege Alfie, had done them for him a few years ago. Normally he would be on this trip with them. Instead, Alfie was on his honeymoon with his new wife Hael.

Cas peered around the room. It was fairly plain, the walls a nondescript eggshell with minimal artwork, a few landscape photos of the Boston skyline and _Fenway Park_. It was plain, but the photos displayed by his fellow tattoo artists would show well in this kind of background. Castiel looked at his wrist watch. He figured Dean would be done showering and dressed in about twenty minutes. Castiel trekked over to the bar and ordered a vodka tonic and wandered over to one of the wide windows. The sky had fully darkened now, but it was still bright due to all of the lit up buildings. Castiel leaned against the wall, watching as other artists filtered in, some he recognized, some he didn’t. He felt a little jolt of surprise when a face he hadn’t seen in a long time entered the room. The man was tall, with hair as dark as his own, and a decent smile made complete by dimples. Castiel didn’t notice any body art, or piercings. Perhaps he actually worked at the hotel. Yes, Cas believed he saw a nametag pinned to the suit he was wearing. He seemed to be scanning the room, eyes going over the partitioned sections. When his eyes passed the bar, over to the window where Cas stood, he stopped and a slow smile crept up his face. Castiel straightened up and pasted a polite expression on his own. Cas had not forgotten the last time he had willingly spoken to this man. How could he, when the man striding his way had tried his best to cost him Dean? All too quickly, he was in Castiel’s personal space.

“Well, I’ll say this is a surprise. How are you, Castiel?”

Castiel smirked, “Just peachy,” he said, unconsciously adopting one of his husband’s phrases. “I didn’t realize you worked here,” he said with a pointed look at the nametag. _Arthur Ketch_.

“Function coordinator. I assume you are one of the artists representing a studio here?”

Cas felt surreal holding a civil conversation when he was seething inside. The rush of anger he thought had been long passed was bubbling under the surface, and he felt like no time had gone by at all. Standing here in front of him wasn’t a grown man, but the cruel 18 year old that had done everything he could to try and destroy Cas’ happiness.

“Yes, I own _The Angel’s Canvas._ ” Castiel didn’t elaborate, hoping that short answers and his cold, clipped tone would be hint enough.

“Perhaps we could go get a drink together when the meet and greet is over?”  His face had the look of someone not used to people saying no to him. The smile was too confident, as was look in his eyes.

“No, I don’t believe that is wise.”

Ketch’s mouth turned down in what Castiel was sure he thought was an attractive pout, and he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

“Why ever not?”

Castiel’s brow furrowed as he wondered if the man didn’t remember their last encounter or if he was just that dense. How Castiel had just banished him from his world, as though he had never existed.

“We didn't part friends, Arthur.”

Arthur looked at him quizzically before he had the nerve to start chuckling. “Oh, please, Castiel. Tell me this doesn’t have anything to do with that little bookworm from high school?” before Cas could do something rash, like punch the self-righteous dick in his condescending face they were both distracted by a rush of people entering the function hall. One of them, his husband.

“My, my, my, isn’t that one delicious. If you’re not interested in getting reaquainted, I certainly don’t mind introducing myself to him,” Arthur made no effort in hiding his blatant perusal of Dean, eyes scanning him from the top of his rich honey hair, down to his boot clad feet. Dean wore a simple white t shirt with a black and green plaid overshirt and a pair of jeans. His standard attire when he wasn’t in professor mode. The simple outfit should not have made him stand out, but when everyone else around you was in leather or corsets or tank tops designed to show off an obscene amount of body art, an ensemble of jeans and flannel stood out. Then there was the fact that his beloved looked like a fucking Calvin Klein model.

Cas watched Dean scan the room and the moment their eyes connected, he felt that wonderful tug of of lust and affection that was always present around his husband. He watched as Dean’s eyes flickered to his companion and saw the exact moment of recognition. There was a flash of anger which tapered off into annoyance then surprisingly, amusement. Castiel puzzled over that as Dean took time to veer off to the bar and order a beer, a _Sam Adams_ in the bottle. Dean took a long pull off of the bottle and Castiel swallowed dryly as he watched his husband’s throat work. God, he was pathetic. Getting hard from watching his man sip off an alcoholic beverage. Dean turned and locked his gaze on Cas’  before giving him a playful wink and heading their way.

Next to him, Arthur let out a breath. “I do believe that fine specimen just winked at me. Your loss, Castiel.”

 _  
_ Castiel choked back a hysterical fit of laughter. __Okay_ , _ he thought to himself. __Let’s see how this plays out.__


	5. Chapter 5

Dean sighed heavily as he dried himself off with the thin,scratchy hotel towel. It always amazed him that they could charge $14.99 for a cheeseburger but couldn’t splurge on a towel thicker than a napkin. He scrubbed his hair with the expensive organic citrus shampoo Cas insisted on using while traveling - _Hard hotel water is not good for the scalp or your hair Dean_ \- and strode naked into the main room to pull out some clothes. He missed Cas. Which was utterly ridiculous because he’d only been gone for about ten minutes.

It had taken a bit, but he understood now. Dean felt like an idiot. He’d been trying to wrack his brain to figure out what exactly he had said that pissed Cas off so much. He’d been lining up their toothpaste and deodorants on the counter when it hit him. Not only was Dean putting down his own worth by suggesting that he wouldn’t be enough for Castiel, which was his husband’s biggest pet peeve, but he was also taking away from Cas’ own feelings. He was stomping on his growth. When Dean first met Cas, he was an intelligent smartass who took for granted his brain and his looks. Cas used his body as a weapon against his parents to get a reaction instead of having enough respect for himself to know that the only person he owed anything to was himself. Something about Dean sparked that change in Castiel. Dean insinuating that Cas would leave him was to insinuate that his devotion to Dean meant nothing. That he hadn’t changed. Of course, it wasn’t how Dean meant it, not in the slightest. He truly was just using it as an example, but he should have known better. If there was one thing Cas was touchy about, it was his promiscuous past before Dean.

* * *

 

_2004_

 

Dean staggered forward down the corridor as a pair of thin arms looped around his neck and a pair of corduroy clad legs wrapped around his waist. His neck suddenly tickled with the onslaught of long red hair that came cascading over his shoulder.

“Sup, bitch?” a musical voice followed by the loud snap of gum sounded in his ear. Dean’s response was a grunt as he approached his locker, shifting to let Charlie slide down his back.

“You’re insane, you red-headed monkey,” Dean said with laughter in his voice.

“So…” Charlie started as they headed down the hall towards U.S. History.

“So what?” Dean asked, though he already had a feeling he knew what she was going to say.

“So I was tutoring Krissy in the library after school on Friday-”

“Tutoring?” Dean interrupted with a smirk. “Is that what you kids are calling it these days?”

“Shut up,” she said with a slap upside his head. “I couldn’t help but notice when I looked out the window that Castiel Novak was getting into your car. Doing some tutoring of your own, Dean?”

“Ha, yeah right. Dude needed a ride home, no big deal.”

Charlie snorted inelegantly as they arrived in Mr. Turner’s class and took their usual seats in the back. “No big deal? I see you leaving school with the guy you’ve had cartoon heart-eyes for since, like, third grade and you tell me it’s no big deal?”

Dean sighed as he opened his notebook, pen at the ready. Mr. Turner was one of those teachers who would spring a pop quiz at anytime, so taking notes in his class was imperative. “Don’t get too excited Charlie. I am pretty sure I’m on his pity train right now,” Dean said quietly. “I’m surprised you waited this long to ask me about it, actually.”

“Crappy deflection. I had to work doubles all weekend so I could get the night off for _Dave Matthews_ this summer. Now spill.”

“ _Dave Matthews_ isn’t until July! It’s fucking March!”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Yes, and Gilda went and saw _Maroon 5_ this past weekend and it was the deal we made. I take all her weekend shifts for her concerts and she’ll take mine.” Charlie worked at Alley Kat Lanes, the local bowling center. Gilda was nineteen and went to the community college in town. Charlie usually worked the weekend days, dealing with the little kid birthday parties and youth and senior leagues while Gilda did the night shift, taking  the rock and bowl and men’s doubles league.  “Now stop stalling. Why are you on his pity train? When did you get on any train, period? Does this have something to do with you taking off during lunch the other day?”

Before Dean could respond, the subject of conversation himself sauntered into the classroom. And sat down right on the other side of Dean. Dean turned to look at him in bafflement.

“What are you doing?”

Castiel graced Dean with his classic lopsided smile. “Hello, Dean. Nice to see you, too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Seriously, what are you doing?” Dean said, glancing over to the other side of the classroom where that Fetch kid and Meg were glowering at Dean, as if he somehow forced their community boyfriend to sit with him.

“Well, we are friends now. Doesn’t that mean I get to sit with you?” Castiel raised a brow at him that had something dark and delicious curling in Dean’s stomach. It only grew stronger as Cas leaned over Dean’s desk to introduce himself to Charlie. Dean had to stop himself from audibly inhaling the teen’s intoxicating smell. Cinnamon, and cloves and something earthy. He smelled like fucking _autumn_.

Dean vaguely registered that his best friend and his new...whatever, were talking. He was too discombobulated by Cas’ close proximity to his body.

“When did you two become friends? “ Charlie asked brightly, not shy in the least.

“Well, when it was pointed out that Dean here had a crush on me, I thought it best to get to know him,” Castiel answered bluntly and Dean gawked at him, mortified.

“Dude, really?”

Castiel chuckled darkly. “I always tell the truth, Dean. Charlie, I am very anxious to get to know your best friend better. It is my every intention to win his heart and show him that I can be dating material.” Charlie gasped in delight at Cas’ bold promise as Dean just shook his head.

“Man, you wouldn’t know what to do with me, once you caught me. Once you get to know me, you’ll realize you don’t want to date me.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” Castiel asked, and Dean was taken aback by his serious tone. Dean was saved from responding by the bell signaling the beginning of class. Mr. Turner walked in the door and closed it behind him.

“Notebooks down, pencils out. Pop quiz, people.”


	6. Chapter 6

_2004_

 

Over the next few months, Cas made it his mission to hang out with Dean as much as he could. He even sat in on a _Dungeons and Dragons_ session, though he didn’t play. He still hung out with his other friends, but now when Cas was over by the oak tree with them, he made sure to wave at Dean and Charlie and Garth, whom Cas had found a kindred spirit when it came to angel lore. Garth and Cas could talk forever about the greatness of heaven’s army, translations of Enochian, the language of the angels. Castiel, being named after the angel of Thursday, was fascinated by it all. Their friend Chuck had even taken inspiration from the discussions and started writing stories about angels and demons and monster killing brothers in his composition notebook.

And without fail, at the end of every month, Castiel would diligently ask Dean if he would go on a date with him and each time, Dean said no.

It finally came to a head during the last month of school. Dean’s mom was working an overnight shift so it was just Dean and Sam. Castiel had come over to be introduced to the amazing world of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_.  

By 11pm, Sam had gone off to bed and it was just Dean and Cas on the broken in blue sofa.  Dean could feel Cas’ eyes on him, like an actual caress.

“You know, it’s hard to enjoy high schoolers possessed by demonic hyenas when you aren’t paying attention,” Dean teased.

“I’m trying. I just keep getting distracted,” Cas said softly, letting his head fall back against the cushion.

“By what?”

“By the fact that I want to straddle your lap and kiss you senseless,” Cas said in that same soft tone. So matter of fact, as if he had just said ‘ _it’s raining outside_ ’ or ‘ _I’d could sure go for some popcorn_.’ Dean swallowed harshly.

“No, Cas. That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not, Dean?” Castiel sat up, all the softness gone now and replaced with frustration.

“Because we’re friends,” Dean said desperately.

Castiel rolled his black-lined eyes. “We’ll still be friends, Dean. We’ll just be...more.”

“No, I can’t Cas. It will ruin everything.”

Castiel scooted forward until their knees were brushing. “How will us dating ruin anything, Dean? You have feelings for me, I know you do. I see the way you look at me.”

“That’s not the point, Cas.”

“Then what _is_ the point?”

“The point is that when you eventually break up with me, I won’t just be losing a boyfriend, I’ll be losing one of my best friends. I’d rather keep you as a friend then lose you altogether,” Dean felt his face flush in embarrassment, but he still held Cas’ gaze. The dark-haired teen looked pained.

“You think I’m… what? Just going to break up with you once I get what I want? That I stopped fucking around with other people so I could fuck around with you, then bail?” Cas’ voice showed that he was hurt and Dean regretted that, even if it was exactly what he thought.

“Cas,” Dean bit his lip, “I think it is great that you have stopped sleeping with everyone who throws themselves at you. You deserve better than to just be somebody's goodtime. But me? You don’t want me, not really. It’s the thrill of the chase, dude, and once we..once we…,” he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, “you’d just be disappointed,” Dean lowered his head, unable to look at Cas after his confession.

Dean heard Castiel sigh, and was surprised when he felt gentle fingers brush down his cheek.

“Dean,” he whispered. “Look at me, please.”

Dean forced himself to meet Cas’ cobalt stare and was relieved to note that there was no pity, only affection and a bit of sadness.

“Is that what you’re afraid of? Is that really what’s holding you back? You think you won’t measure up?”

Dean felt like his cheeks must be on fire and he was a little short of breath. He hoped he wasn't on the verge of a panic attack because wouldn’t that be the rotten cherry on the top of this shit sundae?

“Cas, you’re so experienced. You could have anyone. We both know that. Do you really think you could be happy with me? A virgin with no idea what he’s doing, who rather stay at home reading _The Hobbit_ than go out to a party?”

“Dean. Those other people? They don’t matter. I didn't feel for any of them what I feel for you. Not even close. They’re all the same. Just looking for a good time, wanting to ride the wave of my popularity. They were lemmings. You...God, you are so much more than that. More than they could ever be. Ketch, Meg...they were just one of many,” Cas inched forward, hands coming up to cup Dean’s face, fingers tracing the skin lightly and causing his breath to hitch. “You…” Castiel whispered, “you’re the only.”

Dean would deny later that he whimpered, but that is exactly what he did when his lips finally met Castiel’s for the first time. They were trembling before they caught and locked. Cas was tentative, as if afraid to scare Dean off. It was all soft brushes and gentle nips. He seemed to be letting Dean take the lead, and when he hesitantly licked at the seam of Cas’ mouth, the cool metal of his piercing was a sharp contrast to the warmth of his chapped lips. Castiel sighed and his lips parted eagerly. Dean dipped his tongue into Cas’ mouth. He tasted like cinnamon, spicy and delicious and Dean felt himself grow bolder, his tongue sweeping now, brushing Cas’ with every pass, the barbell a teasing drag that had sparks shooting through his body. Castiel groaned into his mouth, hands creeping up from Dean’s face to fist in his hair. In turn, Dean let his arms loop around Cas’ neck, fingers scratching at his nape.

They kissed like that until their lips grew numb, Cas never asking for more, seeming to know that Dean was not ready to go any further. Part of Dean was afraid Cas would get bored and leave once he realized that this was as far as Dean could go right now, but he needn’t have worried. Castiel was content to slide off of Dean’s lap to instead lay down with him on the couch, Dean the little spoon, as they fell asleep watching Buffy kick vampire ass.

* * *

 

 _  
_ After that first night, that first kiss, if there were some way for Cas to touch Dean, he did so. A hand to the shoulder, an arm across the waist, a soft kiss to his forehead. He adjusted Dean’s reading glasses needlessly and when they walked down the hall it was with interlaced fingers. When they parted for class or to go to their respective groups of friends, they did so with a sweet lingering kiss. As the rest of the school year slipped into summer, they spent most days that they weren’t working, together. Dean got to know some of Cas’ other friends. Alfie Barnes and Benny Lafitte soon became Dean’s friends as well. Even Balthazar was okay to hang with and Dean had even managed to get the boys to join him, Charlie, Chuck and Garth in some LARPing. The way Cas had leered at him in his chainmail had been pretty gratifying, as had been the makeout session behind ‘ _Ye olde candle shoppe_ ’.

Dean never would have guessed how touch starved his boyfriend was. He realized though, on nights when they cuddled together on the couch, fingertips massaging scalps, lines tracing each other’s backs, that what Cas may have had with his past conquests were physical, yes, intimate to a point, but not emotional. There was no sharing a bed just to be close to the person you cared about, there was no sweet endearments. It was, as Castiel had told him once, just a means to scratch an itch. When Dean worried that Cas would get tired of waiting Until he was ready to take that next step, Castiel was there to reassure him.

“I can wait as long as you need me too, sweetheart,” Cas had taken to calling him random, sappy pet names that always set Dean’s heart racing

“It’s just… sometimes I think I’m ready. But then I panic,” Dean bit his lip and Castiel cocked his toward his.head in that endearing way that he had. “I think... no, I KNOW, part of me is afraid that once we… you know, that’ll be the end. Please don’t be mad,” Dean rushed to say when he heard Cas’ breath punch out.

They were sitting on Dean’s front porch swing, watching the June summer sky darken with clouds. A storm was coming. The breeze had picked up and they could feel the spit of rain intermittent with the small gusts of wind. Castiel, who sat shoulder to shoulder with Dean slowed their rocking to lace his hand with Dean’s, bringing it to his lips to brush a whisper of a kiss against the skin of his knuckles. With Cas’ other hand, he cupped Dean’s jaw, gently turning his face, flushed with the heat of embarrassment and guilt, towards his.

“It’s okay that you’re afraid. I don’t…” he gave a bark of bitter laughter, “ I don’t have the best reputation when it comes to relationships. All I can promise you is that I will prove to that part of you that is scared, that there is no need to be,” Castiel brushed his hand through Dean’s hair, causing him to shiver. Cas quirked his lips at him, eyes filled with affection and something deeper. “I am happy to wait, because now that I have you, I’m never letting you go.”

“Promise?” Dean whispered, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Castiel’s.

“Promise,” Cas pulled back to meet Dean’s eyes. Dean watched him raise his brow in that cocky way, but his sapphire gaze betrayed his nervousness. “I’m kind of in love with you, you know.”

The smile that broke across Dean’s face was so wide, he felt his cheeks begin to hurt. He heard Castiel let out a breath of relief  as Dean’s joyous expression must have eased the fear of his unplanned confession. Dean let go of Cas’ hand so he could touch Cas’ face. He lightly brushed his temple, thumbing over the eyebrow ring. He ran his fingers down Cas’ stubbled cheeks, to his wide, pink lips. Castiel smiled against his exploring fingers as they traced over the cool metal on his bottom lip. Dean could see the bright blue ring of his eyes grow smaller as Cas’ pupil’s widened. Dean leaned forward, his lips a hairsbreadth from Castiel’s before he whispered, “I’m in love with you, too.”

Cas closed the minute distance between their lips with a deep groan. Dean’s lips parted with a sigh. His tongue tangled with Cas’, nudging playfully at the barbell in his mouth. The wind howled and a distant thunder rolled but all Dean could focus on was the taste of Cas-cinnamon mixed with the berry iced tea he’d had earlier. Dean drank from his mouth greedily, as though he were dying of thirst, sucking on that pierced tongue, hands fisting and unfisting in Cas’ dark, messy hair. Castiel had his own hands gripping the back of Dean’s t-shirt, nails digging through the fabric to his skin.

_-Boom!-_

A large crack of thunder sounded through the air followed by a downpour of cold rain that had the teens breaking apart with laughter. Dean stood up, pulling Cas with him, as they went inside the house hand in hand.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

After their mutual confessions, it was only a few filthy kisses and one embarrassingly quick frottage session before Dean decided he was ready.

Castiel’s parents were going away on a cruise the first week of July. Sammy had astronomer's camp as he’d suddenly become fascinated with the sky after meeting their new next door neighbor, a girl named Jessica, with a huge telescope and a desire to be an astronaut. Dean’s mom was taking the opportunity to go visit with her parents, giving Dean the choice to stay or go with her to Kansas. Dean was excited and nervous because instead of either of those options, he was going with Castiel to stay in a beach house on the Cape. His mother, who found Castiel ‘unique and sweet’ only had two blush inducing words to say about that: _be safe_.

Castiel’s Uncle Crowley had a house on a private beach on Cape Cod, in Massachusetts.  They would have to pay for groceries and any spending money would come from their own pockets, but the house itself boasted a wraparound porch that overlooked the ocean with a built in jacuzzi, and cable television. Since Crowley and his wife Amara were visiting his mother in Scotland, he’d offered the house to his favorite nephew.

“Your grandmother is Scottish?” Dean asked as he and Castiel drove down the highway. He had to raise his voice as the windows of the Impala were rolled all the way down, his Baby not being equipped with A/C.

“Yes. You should hear how thick her accent gets when she gets going,” Cas said with amusement in his voice.

“How come your mother doesn’t have an accent then?”

“Well, my Grandparents divorced when my mom and Uncle Crowley-his first name is Fergus but don’t ever call him that, by the way,” Castiel warned, brow arched.

“Noted.”

“Anyway, when they split, Crowley wanted to stay with Rowena-that’s my grandmother- and my mom stayed with my grandfather Cain.

“You’ve never mentioned him, “Dean said, giving Cas fingers a squeeze with his right hand, using his left to drive, “Do you ever see him?”

Cas squeezed Dean’s fingers back, tugging his hand into his lap. “Once in awhile, yeah. He, uh, he makes honey.”

“He makes honey?”

“Yeah,um, Bee Blossom Farms? That’s him. My mom, she never really wanted the small town life. She left as soon as she was eighteen, went to school for advertising.

Dean knew that Cas’ mom was an ad executive, but he didn’t really know what that entailed.

“My mom and Crowley weren’t particularly close, but he’s always been there for me. I overheard my mom say once that he couldn’t have children of his own. It was the one time I heard her talk about something without being monotone, you know? I think the fact that he pays so much attention to me, that we’re so close, makes her feel less guilty for not being there for me, emotionally, you know?” Castiel cleared his throat and Dean felt his heart clutch a little bit at Cas’ words. He decided to lighten the mood.

“Plus, a cool free beach house.”

Castiel laughed, giving Dean a look that let him know he knew exactly what he was doing. “Yes, my love, a cool free beach house.”

Dean was glad they had taken Crowley’s advice to leave on Thursday. The traffic heading towards the rotary was ridiculous, he could only imagine how bad it would have been on a Friday. After only one wrong turn, they pulled into a sand blown parking lot around 5 pm. With the traffic, it had only been about a three hour trek. Dean opened up the door and stepped outside, sneakers crunching on a thin coating of sand on tar. He took a deep breath. Dean could smell the sea with that hint of coconut that was often found in tanning oil and sunblock. The breeze also carried with it the scent of fried fish which made his stomach growl. Dean went around to the trunk and opened it up so he could pull out their duffel bags. He also had to dig out Cas’ sketch pad and Dean’s copy of _The Order of the Phoenix_. Dean was stoically ignoring what all the beach sand was going to do to his Baby’s undercarriage.

Across the street was a convenience store named _The Full Sail_ that shared its lot with _Tri-A-Pizza_ , who’s sign declared it take-out only. The whole strip on the way through the town had been littered with bars, t-shirt and gift shops, but aside from a trip to the grocery store, Dean knew that he and Cas wouldn’t be straying too far from the beach during their vacation. Though he wasn’t averse to checking out the mini golf place they passed. Pirates Cove. Golf with a windmill, that was the kind he could handle.

“You know, there’s a drive-in about a half hour away from here in Wellfleet,” Cas said as he took his duffel bag from Dean’s fingers and slung it over his shoulder. He took the sketch pad and tucked it under his arm. Dean got distracted as the wind tousled Cas’ hair. He’d recently had it cut and opted not to add the blue tips, so it was just his natural dark bed-head. Dean’s fingers were itching to play with the chocolate locks and Castiel raised an amused brow, Dean’s expression obviously giving away his distraction. What was Cas saying? Drive-ins, right.

“It could be fun,” Cas said with a smirk and played with his tongue ring suggestively.

“Cut it out,” Dean said with a laugh, “where are we going?”

“You're no fun,” Cas mock pouted before pointing at a path to the right side of the parking lot. It was one of three that branched off of the lot, and lined with sea grass. The wooden boards were white washed, and looked sturdy enough. Dean was glad that they wouldn’t have to trek through beach sand with all of their stuff.

“That’s us. This one to the left, that’s Mr. Adler. He’s here all summer. Nice enough guy, but kind of a dick. One of those guys who’s happy to share his grill or let you use his jet ski as long as you don’t mind having to hear him brag about how much he paid for it,” Castiel started walking and Dean followed, appreciating the view of his boyfriend’s toned calves in his black board shorts. “Here in the middle, that’s Donna and her wife Jody. they’re both cops and pretty badass. They live here year round. Things can get pretty crazy down here around the fourth, it's the one time of year the private beach isn't so private. Lots of bonfires and tourists.”

“Like us?” Dean laughed.

“Like you, maybe, I’ve been coming here my whole life. I have surpassed tourist,” Castiel said haughtily before continuing,” so anyway, locals know that Jody and Donna are cops, so they know better than to get too out of control, but there are always morons who think they can get away with something.” Dean wiped the sweat off of his brow with his arm as he fell in step beside Cas.

“Like last year, I’m on the deck with Crowley and Amara smoking a joint-”

Dean stopped on the planks in shock, “You smoke weed with your uncle?” Dean wasn’t sure what his face looked like in that moment but whatever it was had Cas’ conveying fond affection as he said softly, “Beloved, he’s my dealer,” and kept on walking.

Dean couldn’t help the sappy grin that crept on his face. He thought he liked that pet name best.

“Anyway, we were smoking and watching the fireworks and all the people partying on the beach and this one guy stumbles by. He's totally wasted and obviously high on something. He starts going behind every girl wearing a bikini top and untying the knots, unclasping hooks.”

“Jesus,” Dean said in disgust.

“Yeah. So he’s all off kilter and he’s not paying attention, falling all over the place, and just as he’s about to knock this girl into the fire, Jody comes out of nowhere and just tackles him to the ground. Donna’s right behind her and whatever the guys hopped up on has him juiced because he manages to flip Jody and he’s going for her throat, but she manages to get a knee up and catch his balls and Donna just yanks his hands back as he’s howling and cuffs him. A couple people videotaped it, remind me to pull it up on YouTube.”

They came to the end of the path and it dropped off into sand. Dean blinked at the brightness of the sky, as the beach laid out before him. It was dotted with a few people, too far away to be more than just figures, but it was mostly isolated. To his left, probably a quarter of a mile away, he could see a jetty stretching out into the water. The house in front of them was that greyish-white color of driftwood. It was set high on cement columns that Dean knew was to protect the structure from flooding. Dean followed Castiel up the steps as his boyfriend proceeded to unlock the door.

He followed Cas’ lead and removed his shoes and set them on the welcome mat. The inside was a mostly open floor plan, aside from a hallway branching off to the left. The livingroom spilled out right in front of the entrance. There was a wide, navy couch with a glass topped coffee table that looked to be made from a large lobster trap, complete with netting and hammered metal figures of crabs and lobsters crawling about. The wall across from them, the same side as the front door, had a flat screen TV mounted on the wall with an entertainment stand underneath housing DVDs, some old VHS and an even older dual DVD/VHS player. The floors were made of wood, and there were area rugs in pastels underneath the furniture, embossed with seashells.

Behind the livingroom was the kitchen, and Dean could see a side door that would most likely lead to the wraparound porch and the jacuzzi. In the kitchen itself there was a large table, picnic style in that same driftwood color that dominated the house and flooring. The refrigerator was in 70’s style green with pictures held up by generic magnets, the kind that advertized local businesses. Dean could see one in particular that depicted his boyfriend, probably around 14 or 15, in a Sex Pistols tee shirt flipping off the photographer.

“Aww, babe. You’re such a ham in front of the camera!” Dean teased as Castiel followed his gaze towards the fridge.

“Shut up. I was pubescent. Angry, hungry and horny all the time. I didn’t want any documentation of that,” Cas said and Dean snorted.

“Sounds like you were a joy to be around.”

Castiel smirked. “Why do think my parents sent me here? Come on, I’ll show you my room.”

“You have your own room here?”

“Yeah, Crowley made sure when he bought this place. A master bedroom for him and Aunty Amara, a guest room for friends and room for me. Up until I was sixteen and started working part time for Gabriel, I spent the majority of my summers here.”

Dean followed Cas down the hallway. He opened the doors along the way so he could peek in. Crowley’s room was huge with an attached bath, the decor very modern, with a black and white checkered spread on the huge king size bed. There were white throw rugs and black and white framed pictures of calla lilies. The guest room, Dean noticed when Cas opened it up,  was much warmer, everything in pale blues and yellows, with cheerful sunflower curtains.

“All summer, huh? Are you as friendly here with the locals as you used to be back at home?” Dean jokingly asked, as Cas pointed out the bathroom on the right that they would be using before opening the door to the last room at the end of the hall. “Do I need to be on my guard? Do you have any scary exes I need to be worried abo- _mmph_ ” Dean’s voice was cut off as Castiel spun around and muffled Dean’s words with his plush lips, cool metal pressing hard against his mouth. They stood there in the doorway, Cas’ hands at Dean’s hips, Dean’s hands grasping at the back of Cas’ shirt. Castiel kissed him greedily, a deep, plundering kiss that stole Dean’s breath and quickened his heart. When Cas pulled away, Dean chased after for one more quick sip. Breathing heavily, they rested, forehead to forehead. With his impossibly blue eyes closed, Cas spoke:

“I have never brought anyone here. I have never been with anyone here, local or tourist. When I came here, I wasn’t seeking attention like I was at home with my parents. Uncle Crowley gave me all the attention I needed. Before I had you, this was where I was the happiest,” Cas whispered, “ I wanted to share it with you, and only you.”

Dean’s breath hitched at the confession and he pulled Castiel into a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his cinnamon and clove scent. For a long moment all that could be heard were the waves crashing outside, the call of the gulls, and their soft, steady breathing.


	8. Chapter 8

_2004_

 

 

They decided to do the shopping in the morning. Dean and Cas sat side by side, propped up by pillows on Castiel’s queen size bed. They were watching ‘ _ Don’t Tell mom The Babysitters Dead _ ’ on TBS. Dean’s eyes traveled the room as he settled in more comfortably on the thick, navy comforter. There were some posters on the wall of bands and singers Dean had never heard of before;  _ Guided By Voices, Bic Runga, Louden Swain _ . There were also some gorgeous artwork featuring warrior angels, feathers, and dreamcatchers. All Castiel’s work. His boyfriend was a tremendous artist. It was often why he was tagged to help create the scenery for the drama club and their plays. Instead of art school, Cas planned on being an apprentice to his cousin Gabriel at his tattoo shop. Cas would also be taking business classes so he could open his own studio someday. Dean was proud, Castiel’s art was gorgeous and anyone would be lucky to have it grace their body. Dean still wasn’t sure what he was going to go to school for. He knew he wanted to teach, but he wasn’t sure what. He was excellent at school, that wasn't bragging, it was just facts. And he was good at explaining things if his brother Sam was anyone to go by, but Dean didn't think he wanted to teach in high school. Not for the subjects he was really interested in. Whatever he wound up doing, he wanted it to be college level.

Dean glanced to his side, looking at Castiel’s profile and feeling warm all over. Despite shaving in the morning, his boyfriend seemed to have perma-stubble. Not that Dean minded. He loved the feel of it under his thumbs when he brushed Cas’ jaw, or when it rasped against his cheeks when they kissed and nuzzled. Dean also couldn’t help but imagine what it may feel like between his thighs. The stubble burn afterward would be worth it, Dean was sure. He shifted a little closer and felt the warm press of his leg against Castiel’s. It had gone unspoken that they would share a bed. Cas did not offer the guest room and Dean did not inquire about it either. They’d slept together before, but never with the express purpose of doing so. It was always on the couch or on one of their beds after falling asleep watching a movie, and always with someone else in the house. This was different. They were utterly alone, with complete privacy.

Dean had been nervous as hell packing because he knew this was going to be it. The night when he finally opened up and let Cas have him, not just in soul and mind, but body as well.. Dean had manned up and gone to CVS, purchasing condoms and astroglide. Buying condoms had freaked him the fuck out because he didn’t know which one of them would be topping, he had no idea what size cock Castiel had. The one time they had brought each other to orgasm had been a quick and heated grinding when Castiel had straddled Dean’s lap and introduced him to the joys of frottage. Dean had left Cas’ house with his boyfriend’s black sweatpants and thankfully, Dean’s mom either didn’t notice the change of clothes or just politely ignored it. But rubbing each others dicks together through layers of jeans and cotton was an entirely different ballgame than having sex and feeling the weight of someone else’s cock in his hand and body. In the end he had just asked for the most popular brand and hoped for the best.  

Dean broke out into a sweat whenever he thought about it, could feel himself doing so now. He knew he wanted it, He’d thought about it more times than he could count, had jerked off to the memory of the sounds Cas had made, thrusting against him in his lap, wondering what it would feel like with skin on skin contact. He was eager to share his body with Cas, for Cas to be the one to open that world up to him. But fuck, if he wasn’t scared.

Dean watched as Cas leaned over to the nightstand and took out a pipe and a baggy, pulling his legs in to sit cross legged so he could lay it out before him. Castiel must have felt Dean’s eyes on him because he turned and gave Dean a soft smile.

“You okay, darling?”

_ Trip, stumble, thud _ went his heart as it was wont to do whenever Cas used endearments on him. Unable to find his voice, Dean simply nodded. It wasn’t the pain that he was afraid of. He knew that there would be a burn and a stretch. He was expecting it. Dean may have been a virgin, but he’d used a dildo before, he knew how to finger himself, hell he knew how to give himself a prostate massage. Pleasing himself wasn't the issue, but pleasing someone else? That was more than a little daunting. Especially someone as experienced as Castiel. What if he was a disappointment? What if he was just awful at it? What if he came before Cas even had a chance to get hard and have any fun? The thoughts raced through his head and all of a sudden he felt tense. Dean found himself clutching at the comforter as Castiel sat beside him, packing a bowl into the small, hand-blown pipe.

Dean wasn't much for smoking, but he didn’t begrudge those who did, so long as it didn’t go beyond marijuana. Like he did everytime, Castiel asked Dean if he wanted to hit it. Unlike almost every other time, for once, Dean said yes. Cas had never looked more surprised, eyebrows raised, hands paused in the act of breaking apart a bud from the baggy in front of him.

“Really?”

Dean shrugged, thinking that it might help him to relax. “Why not? We're on vacation, right?”

Castiel cocked his head and narrowed his black-rimmed eyes at him suspiciously. “Alright, who are you and what have you done with my sweet, innocent boyfriend?”

Dean shrugged again, this time the movement was jerky and Cas put down the bowl carefully and turned fully to look at his boyfriend.

“Sweetheart, seriously. Is something wrong?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “If you didn’t want me to say yes, why did you ask?” he asked, tone defensive.

“I’m happy to smoke up with you, Dean, but you don’t look happy about it. You look like something’s wrong, and I just wish you would tell me what it is,” Cas’ voice was honey, thick and sweet with concern and Dean groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“I want to have sex, and I thought it would help me relax,” Dean said from behind his hands, counting the seconds of silence that followed his statement. He made it to thirteen before Castiel spoke again.

“Dean, are you sure?”

Dean raised his eyes to Cas’ and felt himself flush with embarrassment. He’d been so set on what he’d wanted that it didn’t even occur to him that it might not be what Cas wanted as well.

“Forget it, it’s okay. We don’t have to if you don't want to,” Dean scrambled to sit up, to move away a little bit but Castiel was having none of that. He easily caged Dean in by straddling his lap, knees on either side of his hips. Cas cupped Dean’s heated face, turning it until he was facing Castiel head on.

“Of course I want to,” Cas said softly, tracing down Dean’s smooth cheek with a black painted nail. He tilted his head in question, brow furrowed in concern. “Why would you say that?”

Dean couldn’t answer, could barely hold Cas’ steady gaze, though the blatant love and affection blazing in the blue depths of his eyes was having a calming effect on his breathing. Castiel was patient as he waited for Dean to be able to speak. Finally, he sighed, fingers idly playing with the hem of Cas’ shirt.

“I guess I just thought if you were asking me if I was sure, that maybe that meant you didn’t want to,” Dean said, quietly.

“Dean,” Castiel began, seriously, “I asked if you were sure because if you need weed to relax, maybe you aren’t ready, and I don’t want your first time to be dulled.  I want you present,” Cas ran his hands up and down Dean’s arms slowly, and gooseflesh broke out across his skin, despite the warmth. “I want you to feel my touch clearly, not buffered by a haze of lethargy.”

“Are you telling me you’ve never had sex high before?”  Dean asked, with a disbelieving expression.

Cas chuckled lightly, “No. But none of those people were you.”

Dean knew Cas meant to be reassuring but the reminder that this was far from Castiel’s first time just had him tensing up again.

“I just...I thought if I was relaxed, then maybe I wouldn’t screw up and disappoint you,” Dean said with difficulty before leaning forward to bury his flaming face in Cas’ shoulder.

Castiel pulled back abruptly and gripped Dean’s arms, fingers digging in. He almost looked angry, eyes in a narrowed squint. “Do you really believe that?” Cas’’ tone was incredulous.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he forced himself to continue. “Look, man, it’s not like it isn’t a possibility. I’ve never done this before without silicone,” Dean joked and saw Cas’ lip twitch in amusement. “Hell, I couldn’t even keep myself from coming when we were fully clothed.”

“You weren’t the only one, love,” Castiel pointed out but Dean just shook his head.

“What if I get so worked up that I fucking pull a Jim Levenstein before we even get started?” Dean asked miserably and Castiel threw his head back laughing at the  _ American Pie  _ reference.

“That’s great, Cas, real reassuring,” Dean said sarcastically, as Castiel shook his head, looking at him with naked affection. His mouth curved in that classic lopsided smile before he leaned forward for a fleeting kiss.

“Dean, even if you did orgasm before we got to the main event-” Dean groaned and buried his face against Cas again-”it wouldn’t matter. For one, we’re teenagers, we have the refractory period of rabbits. Two, you are utterly stunning when you come,” Castiel’s voice had gone gravelly, the way it did when he was being serious and Dean groaned again.

“Ugh, don’t say shit like that, man,” Dean’s voice was muffled against Cas’ shirt. He shivered as he felt fingers drag up his back soothingly.

“Why not? It’s the truth. Look at me,” Cas said, waiting until Dean pulled back to see him fully. “I need you to hear this, okay? It doesn’t matter to me that you haven’t done this before. If anything, I feel honored that I get to experience it with you,” Cas lifted Dean’s chin with his long fingers. “And let me tell you something else. The fact that it is you, who I am irrevocably in love with, is going to make it so much better than any other encounter I have ever had.” The sincerity in Cas’ whiskey-soaked voice was undeniable and  Dean began to feel the knot in his stomach loosen.

“You know,” Dean teased, trying to lighten the mood, “You are way more sappy than I would have ever believed.”

“And you,” Castiel said, bringing their foreheads together, “are incredibly good at deflecting anything that may be construed as a compliment or praise of any kind,” he sighed, dragging his fingers through Dean’s hair and scratching at the scalp. “It’s okay. We’ll work on it,” Castiel twisted around and reached for the packed bowl that was resting on the bed. He placed it on the nightstand. “We’ll save this for afterward.”

Dean licked his lips and nodded nervously. “I um, I brought stuff, it’s in the bottom of my bag.”

Castiel climbed off of Dean’s lap to grab his green army bag.  He unzipped it and fished around in the bottom before he pulled out the bottle of lube and box of trojans. Cas  smiled widely. “Look at you, my handsome boy scout. It’s good you brought these,” he said, shaking the box,” because all I brought was lube.”

“Really? You weren’t expecting this, even a little bit?” Dean asked, surprised and Castiel looked at him fondly as he crawled back onto the bed, back onto Dean’s lap.

“I didn’t want to seem presumptuous, though I won’t deny that I did hope. Have you thought at all about how you want to do this?” Dean felt himself blushing at the question and rolled his eyes at himself.

Castiel cocked his head in question at Dean’s expression. “Why do you look annoyed?”

“Nothing, just I can feel myself blushing and I hate it. I mean, if I am gonna have sex I should be able to talk about it, right?”

Cas snickered a little before giving Dean a sweet, chaste kiss. “I think it’s cute.”

“Of course you do," Dean said with a sigh. "To answer your question,  I guess I just assumed we would do whatever you were comfortable with. I mean, I’m, you know,” Dean took a deep breath,” all clean or whatever. I kind of assumed you would want to top, so I made sure to…” Dean trailed off and Cas took pity.

“To take a thorough shower?” Cas finished gently and Dean nodded, relieved. “Well, we can definitely do it that way if you want to. But for future reference, I am happy in either position,” Cas placed the lube down on the bed and opened the box of condoms, pulling out a little foil package and laying it next to the bottle. Dean’s stomach jumped as he watch Cas tug his tee shirt over his head, baring his firm chest. Cas’ fingers drifted to the hem of Dean’s shirt and he lifted his arms automatically. “Let’s just start with these, shall we?” Castiel suggested softly and swept the soft material over Dean’s head before tossing it on the floor next to his..

“Okay,” Dean sighed, then let out a shuddering breath as Castiel trailed his hand down Dean’s chest, tracing all the way down to the waistband of his shorts. Dean mimicked the movements, pausing to graze at Castiel’s right nipple, fascinated by a little dark freckle. Dean traced it with his finger and felt a smile tug at his lips when Castiel’s breath hitched. “I’m surprised you don’t have these pierced,” Dean wondered out loud as he continued to trace over Cas’ nipples.

“I’ve thought about it, but the thing is, some people get more sensitive-”Castiel hissed as Dean gently tugged on a tight bud, “but some lose what sensitivity they already have, and I figured it wasn’t worth the risk.”

Dean swallowed tightly as he watched Cas’ head tip back at his touch. “Yeah, probably a good call,” he said roughly before following instinct and closing the distance between them to kiss at Cas’ throat.  Soft, barely there presses of lips to skin that had Castiel sighing before Dean licked at the salty skin and latched on, sucking a small bruise into the warm flesh. He released the skin to trail more kisses along Cas’ collarbone and his boyfriend retaliated by grinding down on Dean’s lap and fisting his hands in his soft hair. Dean could feel himself rapidly swelling in his boxer briefs and he could feel that Cas was having the same reaction. Dean dragged his mouth backup Castiel’s neck until he was at his ear. Dean caught the lobe between his teeth. He only got one little nip before Cas is pulled his head back.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Cas whispered, and dipped forward to claim Dean’s lips with his own. The cool metal of his lip ring, a familiar sensation now, rubbed against Dean’s, and Dean smiled against the feel of it. Cas took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and Dean sighed, as their breath mingled. Dean stroked his tongue against Castiel’s, licking at the barbell before gently sucking on the tip of the pink muscle. Cas moaned into his mouth, the vibration making lust curl in his belly. Dean could already feel that he was leaking and pulled back with a pop to even out his breathing.

“You...you are dangerous,” he said with a breathy laugh and Cas smiled at him, all teeth and crinkled nose and Dean had the ridiculous urge to just hug him, so he did, embracing him tightly. “I love you,“ he whispered against Cas’ ear. “I love you, so damn much.” Dean felt Cas shudder against him.

“Good,” he said, voice husky with emotion, “make sure it’s forever, okay?” without waiting for an answer, Cas took Dean’s mouth with his again and gently pushed him back into the pillows so that he was reclining. Cas leaned over him, on his knees, caging Dean’s head with his arms before he did some exploring of his own. Cas kissed at Dean’s collarbone, before giving a lick at the hollow of his throat. As Castiel made his way down Dean’s chest, the lower part of his body dragged against Dean’s clothed cock and his breath hitched. Dean felt Cas smile against the soft skin around his belly button. He blew a gentle raspberry and Dean laughed softly, bringing his hands down to card in Cas’ dark locks, pushing his fingers through it, and making it stand up on end. Cas grinned at him wickedly, before sitting back up astride Dean’s thighs. His nimble fingers quickly had Dean's shorts unbuttoned and unzipped.  Cas’ fingers barely ghosted over his hardness hidden under cotton, but Dean still arched his hips up. His breath hissed between his lips as Castiel then deliberately dragged a finger down the outline of his full cock trapped in the boxers. Castiel raised his pierced brow in question and Dean licked his lips before nodding his head, giving the go ahead.

“Lift, love,” Cas instructed and Dean raised his hips so that Cas could tug the material down over his hips. Dean’s dripping cock slapped up against his stomach and he saw Cas’ eyes widen at the sight. Dean knew he was a little bigger than average, and thick. The head was glistening and flushed pink and Dean saw Cas lick his lips before he slipped off of the bed, taking Dean’s clothes the rest of the way off before divesting himself of his own. Dean actually moaned out loud when Cas’ body was bared to him. Castiel smiled at the reaction, stroking his own hardness twice before crawling back onto the bed. Dean was torn between looking at Cas’ gorgeous uncut cock, and his hip bones that could cut glass.

“Jesus Christ, Cas, look at you,” Dean found himself murmuring in wonder and Castiel laughed softly. His hands were itching to touch and it must have showed on his face because Cas straddled Dean’s thighs again on raised knees. He reached down and grabbed Dean’s hands and brought them to his hips. Dean eagerly rubbed circles into them as Cas leaned down to take his mouth in a filthy kiss.  Dean felt the drag of Cas’  cock against his own and groaned loudly. Dean pulled one hand away from Cas’ hip to tentatively reach between them so he could stroke Cas’ hardness. Cas arched his back at the first touch of Dean’s fingers to his cock. Dean held it in a loose circle before stroking his hand up and down slowly. Cas’ moan was low and dirty. Dean gloried at the sight of the slick head peeking out of the foreskin, as he propped himself up to look down at where his hand was. Cas was thrusting shallowly in his loose fist, and Dean’s own cock was dripping copiously.

Dean could feel a familiar tightening in his balls, and they hadn’t gotten nearly far enough for that. As though Cas sensed it, he stopped his movements and Dean reluctantly let go. Castiel winked at him knowingly. “How are you doing sweetheart? You need a minute?” Castiel’s voice was shaky and Dean was happy that despite his noviceness, that Cas was clearly affected as well.

Dean nodded, “I’m okay. I didn’t want to stop touching you, but I-”

“I know,” Castiel said gently. “I remember what it’s like,” he said, stroking himself lightly.  Dean couldn’t help but stare. “Does it bother you, me being uncut?”

“What? No, course not,” not in the slightest, Dean thought to himself, imagining when he might get to feel the weight of Cas’ dick in his mouth.

“Good. Wait til we try docking,” Cas said and Dean’s face flushed with want. “But for now, hand me that pillow next to you.”

Dean did as he was told and lifted his hips so Castiel could place it under his ass. The nerves had come back and Dean’s erection had waned a little bit. Castiel crawled up his body to give him a soft kiss. “I’ll go slow, okay?”

Dean could only nod and Cas slipped back down, taking the lube and condom with him. He knew that it would be easier on his knees, but he wanted to see Castiel, needed that connection and Cas seemed to know that without words. Dean blew out a breath before pulling his legs up and hooking them over his arms. He felt bare and exposed and he jumped at the first touch of Castiel’s hands to his firm cheeks.

“You’re perfect, Dean,” Cas said reverently. Dean felt Castiel spread him wider and he nearly shot of the bed at the first touch of Cas’ lips to his pucker, where he pressed a soft kiss. Dean could only imagine what that pierced tongue would feel like spearing into him. Dean tried to watch what was happening, but seeing Cas’ dark head between his legs was too much so he reclined back and let his eyes close. He had been right. The stubble against the inside of his thigh was sharp and heavenly all at once.  He heard the snick of a bottle cap and then the wet touch of Cas’ finger to his entrance. His first instinct was to tense up when Cas nudged his fingertip inside.

“Breathe, beloved, breathe,” Castiel instructed and Dean forced himself to relax the way he would when fingering himself for a toy. But this was different,so different. This was Cas, with his warm long fingers, and this wouldn't be some toy fucking him, it would be Cas’ cock, thick, long and pulsing heat. Dean felt his dick perk back up at the thought and Cas’ finger slipped in further. Castiel slipped his digit in and out, praising how good Dean was doing, how beautifully he was taking him in. Dean heard the cap being opened again and soon there were two fingers working their way inside and he found himself panting. Castiel’s right hand crept up to stroke Dean’s cock for the first time and Dean arched at the touch, inadvertently impaling himself further on Cas’ fingers and he let out a gratifying grunt at the feeling.

“You still doing alright?” Castiel’s voice was strained and Dean made himself sit up enough to meet his boyfriend’s gaze. His liner rimmed eyes were dilated, the blue nearly all swallowed up by black. His hair was fucked out and his face was flushed. Dean could see Cas’ cock dripping steadily and again he felt the urge to taste.

“M’good, Cas, keep going. Wanna feel you.”

Cas smiled at him sweetly and began to scissor his fingers, tugging at the rim. When Cas did finally spear his tongue into Dean’s hole, he had to grab the base of his cock to stave off orgasm. He became a needy mess as Cas methodically added another finger and continued to take him apart.

“Please, please Cas. I’m ready, I promise.”

Still Cas ignored him, pressing sucking kisses to the inside of his thighs as he worked yet another finger in, spreading, widening Dean’s opening. At one point, Castiel crooked his fingers a certain way and Dean felt lightening shoot through his body.

“Oh.  _ Oh yes _ , do that again,” Dean moaned and Cas chuckled darkly. He brushed over Dean’s prostate a few more times, watching his fingers sliding in and out. Cas groaned, his sandpaper voice deep, “God Dean, you’re opening right up for me. I think you’re ready, sweetheart.”

Dean arched up and nodded rapidly. “Yes. Please Cas,” Dean said, apparently just reduced to pleading. Dean felt Castiel pull his fingers out, felt his hole fluttering around nothing, wanting to be filled. Dean watched as Cas tore the condom wrapper open, watched as he slid it on his hard, dripping length. Cas whimpered at the touch of his own hand. He crowded into Dean’s space and took over holding Dean’s right leg for him. With his other hand he grasped his dick and he gently pushed into Dean’s furled entrance.Cas was panting and Dean could tell it was taking everything in him to not thrust wildly. Instead, Cas’ head fell back as he slowly rocked in shallow thrusts into Dean’s stretched out hole.

Dean had become nothing but a chorus of sighs and whimpers and when Castiel slipped in all the way to the base, they both let out guttural moans. Cas let himself fall forward, one arm braced on the bed next to Dean’s head, the other holding Dean’s leg over Cas’ shoulder. Castiel captured Dean’s mouth in a drugging kiss is he pushed in and out, and Dean relished the feeling of the catch and drag against his rim every time Cas pulled out nearly all the way before sliding back in.

Dean felt overwhelmed, and so full. Cas was so hot inside him, stroking in and out perfectly. He wondered what it would feel like when Cas was able to take him with no barrier of latex between them. But that thought was chased away when the tip of Cas’ cock brushed against his bundle of nerves. Dean arched up on a harsh cry, breath punched out as Cas continued to hit his sweet spot over and over.

After that, Dean knew it wouldn’t be long. Cas panted against his lips, as they breathed the same air, and their push and pull increased in tempo.

“Harder, Cas, I can take it,” Dean demanded and Castiel growled as he began thrusting in earnest. Dean’s cock, slick with precome slid deliciously against Cas’ stomach on every stroke into his body.

When the orgasm hit, there was no warning. Dean had been climbing and all of a sudden his vision whited out. The pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain and his mouth opened on a silent scream as his cock erupted between them. Castiel continued to thrust furiously until he too locked up, back arching, hips stuttering as he let out a deep mantra of “ _ unh, unh, unh _ ,” before he collapsed on Dean, head landing somewhere near his heart, which Dean was sure was racing loud enough to hear. Dean’s leg slipped from Cas’ shoulder in a slick, sweaty glide, to fall back on the comforter.

For awhile they laid like that, a panting sticky mess, before Cas reluctantly pulled out, carefully removing the condom and tying it off. He tossed it in the wastepaper basket across the room before reaching down on the floor next to the bed to grab his tee-shirt. He used it to clean up the sticky mess on his and Dean’s stomachs. He then leaned down to give Dean a tender kiss, which turned to a languid tangle of tongues,as Dean gripped Cas by the hair and held him there. They broke apart when they needed to breathe and Dean could feel a silly smile creep across his face. Castiel smiled back, eyes so filled with love that Dean felt the prick of tears which he resolutely blinked back.

“Was that okay for you?  How are you feeling?” Cas asked, voice even more raspy than usual.

Dean laughed, breathlessly. “Well, that might have just been okay for you, but for me? That was most incredible thing I have ever felt, so I’d say I am feeling pretty good right now.”

Castiel kissed Dean again before whispering against his lips, “It was so much more than okay, Dean. It was perfect. You,” Cas pressed his lips to Dean’s again, “You are perfect.”

Dean sighed, sleepily and stroked Cas hair as he settled against him, both of them clearly on board with a nap. 

Dean felt a little sore and completely fucked out and utterly perfect.


	9. Chapter 9

_2004_

 

 

It had been a good week, and Dean was sad when they had to go back home. He’d learned the joys of mutual handjobs in the shower, and how if he held onto the railing of the headboard when Cas fucked into him, he barely slipped and the impact on his prostate was harder. He also learned that unlike porn led you to believe, sex on the beach was not all it was cracked up to be, especially when your neighbors, the BAMF lady cops, catch you with your pants down, literally. He learned as they relaxed outside in the jacuzzi under the stars that Castiel really knew his constellations...or he was just good at making them up. He learned that he had come to the conclusion that if he lost this amazing person he’d fallen in love with, that he would break, and never recover.

The rest of the summer passed too quickly and it was school before they knew it. Dean took comfort in the fact that it was their senior year. Dean and Cas had both settled on going to their state school, Dean for a teaching degree in pop culture and Cas for business. They had been scouting areas within an hour range of the campus for apartments just in case their request to house together didn’t go through. They started putting half of their paychecks in a joint savings account for that possibility.

Charlie had been surprised when Dean told her they were already sharing finances, but she’d been supportive. People at school were still surprised to see Castiel and Dean together. Dean thought it was because they had a become a couple so close to the end of junior year that their fellow classmates probably thought it was just a fling that would have ended over the summer.

It was only two weeks in when Dean started getting hassled by Castiel’s exes. Meg started a rumor that Castiel was only with Dean because he blackmailed him, apparently with a video of Cas smoking weed behind the utility shed after school. Another favorite was that Dean was paying Cas, ‘Can’t buy me love’ style to gain popularity. It was pretty hilarious.

“What do you have today?” Charlie asked, as they sat on the wall getting ready to share sandwiches during lunch break.

Dean reached into the front of his backpack to grab the sandwich tucked in the netted pocket. “A pureed salted peanut spread with a grape relish reduction on a brioche bun,” he said loftily and Charlie snorted.

“You mean peanut butter and jelly?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Your such a nerd,” She said with a snicker as she pulled out her own sandwich, chicken salad, offering him half.

“Does it have celery in it?”

“Yes.”

“Then nope.”

For awhile there was just the sound of their chewing. It was still pretty warm for late October. Dean felt eyes on him and turned. He smiled at Cas who was staring at him from his spot in the hacky sack circle he was participating in. Dean tried not to let it bother him that Meg and that Fetch guy had insinuated themselves into the game with Cas, Alfie and Inias. Dean teasingly threw out a overly seductive kissy face and waggled his brows. Castiel doubled over in laughter from where he was, earning himself boos for screwing up the hack.

“Jesus, stop staring at your twink,” Dean heard someone say, followed by Cas’ threatening growl.

“Those guys are such assholes,” Charlie said. “Have you heard the latest rumor?”

“The one where I am paying him to be my boyfriend, or the one where he is dating me on a dare?” Dean asked with a sigh.

“Neither, The one whe-”

“Shh,” Dean hurried to quiet Charlie down. Castiel was headed their way and though he was sure his boyfriend had heard the nasty lies himself, he knew that if he thought Dean was upset or worried about them, then he would feel guilty. Dean didn’t want that. He didn’t care what they thought, he really didn’t. Castiel loved him and showed him everyday.

Castiel tugged on Charlie’s braid as he passed her by to Dean’s spot on the wall. Cas squatted down until he was seated next to him and reached out to brush his cheekbone.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said softly before cupping the back of Dean’s head and bringing him forward for a kiss. Dean parted his lips on a sigh, easily granting him access. Castiel’s slick tongue slipped inside and slid against Dean’s in slow undulations. When they finally broke apart, Cas’ lips were a glistening pink and Dean felt himself shiver at the sight, a little too worked up for a school setting. He laughed and pushed Castiel back with a hand to his chest.

Castiel tilted his head in adoring innocence. “What’s the matter, darling?”

Dean narrowed his eyes, “You know what's the matter,” he said while digging his pointer finger into Cas’ chest. “None of that, Especially when I don't even get to see you tonight.” Castiel had track practice and as for himself, he needed to be home with Sammy.

“Don’t worry,” Charlie piped up, having moved a respectable distance when Castiel had first come over. “I’ll be there to keep you company.”

“No offense, red, cause you know I love you, but it’s just not the same,” Dean teased.

“Well, in that case, I can always just go over to Krissy’s house for another tutoring session,” Charlie said, winking suggestively.

“Gross, red.”

“That’s hot,” was Cas’ response and Dean rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure Meg would take you back if you miss boobs that badly,” Charlie teased. Dean knew she was only joking but the thought still had a ball of lead forming in his stomach. Castiel seemed to sense his discomfort and scooted up behind him. He snaked an arm around Dean’s middle, tugging him so he was back to chest, and hooked his chin over Dean’s shoulder.

“I’m good, Bradbury, thank you,” Cas’ voice rasped against Dean’s ear, warm air tingling down his neck, sending sparks through his body.

“No kidding. You two are grossly adorable,” Charlie reached down for her bag, opening it up and throwing her unpeeled orange that she never wound up eating back inside. “I gotta jet, I promised Garth I would help him carry his science fair project back out to the car before lunch ends. Peace out, bitches.”

Dean waved her off, Cas still nuzzling behind him. Dean placed his hands over Cas’ and rubbed in a soothing gesture. “Something wrong, Cas?” Dean asked, craning his head back to look at his boyfriend. Castiel bit his pierced lip before he started worrying the barbell in his mouth, clicking it against the back of his teeth. Dean was patient and waited him out and finally Cas sighed. He slipped back away from Dean and he immediately missed the warmth, but was gratified when Cas reached down to lace their fingers together.

Dean’s stomach began to get a nervous fluttering, not the usual fluttering he associated with Castiel. “What’s wrong?”

Cas pulled Dean’s hand into his lap and began to fiddle with his fingertips. A soft smile played about his mouth as he looked at Dean fondly. “Nothing tragic, love, please don’t look so nervous.”

Not for the first time, Dean cursed his expressive face. Castiel could read him like a book and it could be frustrating at times.

“Okay, but you are giving me the ‘we gotta talk eyes’. I may be inexperienced in this whole relationship thing, but even I know that’s usually never good.”

To Dean’s surprise, Castiel laughed. “Sweetheart, you get that this whole relationship thing is new to me too, right? What I had before,” Cas paused as he swallowed, grimacing as though tasting something bad, “Who I was before...those weren't real relationships. I was just passing the time,” He quirked his lips in his endearing half smile, “I like to think I was passing time til I found you.” His words were soft and genuine and Dean could feel the blush creep up his cheeks and he groaned, falling forward to bury his face in Cas’ chest.

“It’s not fair how you make cheesy so fucking romantic,” his muffled voice whined and he could feel the rumble in Cas’ chest as he laughed. Dean lifted his head up and scowled at Cas. He fought the urge to run his fingers through the dark locks that the breeze was playing havoc with, the sun teasing out red and gold highlights he itched to touch. “So what's going on? Cause something is bugging you. And lunch ends in five minutes, so spill.”

“Okay, well the drama club is doing A Midsummer Night’s Dream for the senior play this year.”

Dean nodded, “Yeah, I heard.”

“So the drama teacher and my art teacher both asked if I would please help them with the scenery. Do some of the background and shit.”

“O-kay…” Dean said, a puzzled expression on his face. “So what’s the problem?”

“Well, it’s going to take up a lot of our free time for a while. With track, and helping them out...and Arthur will be there.”

Dean raised his brow in question and Castiel rolled his eyes. “You know. The douche I..um..” Cas trailed off guiltily and it clicked.

“Ohhhhh. You mean Fetch?”.

Castiel blew out an exasperated breath, “It’s Ketch.”

“Like I care. Okay, so I am still not seeing the problem,” Dean said and Castiel cocked his head, confused.

“I guess I just thought you’d be mad, or not want me to do it,” he said.

“Well, if I asked you not to, would you tell them no?”

“Yes.” The response was immediate.

“And that’s why I am not going to ask you to,” Dean said with a smile, “because I knew you would say that. Cas, you don’t have to give anything up for me. You love art, you love designing things.”

“But Ketch…”

“What about him? You plan on cheating on me with that bag of dicks?”

“Of course not!” Castiel barked.

“Then there is nothing to talk about. I trust you, Cas,” Dean leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on Cas’ plush pink lips, before wrapping his arms around him, nuzzling his face against his’ stubble.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas whispered, tightening his grip, nearly stealing Dean’s breath.

“I love you, too.”


	10. Chapter 10

_2004_

 

A month later it became apparent Cas wasn’t wrong. Between track and the play and both of their part time jobs, there really wasn’t much time for just them. On the plus side, the’d both been accepted into C.S.U. and it looked like they were going to be able to dorm with each other as well. Dean was excited because sharing a dorm, it would be a lot cheaper than renting an apartment.

Dean’s mother had hugged them both when she heard the news and even Cas’ mom took an interest, telling them she would buy them a microwave and mini fridge for their room.

“I swear, they pay more attention now that I have been steady with you, than any other time. My mom said it was nice to see me get serious about something,” Castiel said in wonder Friday afternoon,as he laid with his head in Dean’s lap while they watched a _Friends_ rerun. Dean smiled and massaged Cas’ scalp. Cas smiled up at him.

“I’m resisting the urge to pull you down and kiss you senseless because I have to leave. And if I do kiss you senseless, it’s going to lead to other things we don’t have time for. And since I actually get to stay over tonight, I am kind of looking forward to the anticipation.”

Dean sighed as Cas pulled himself up to a seated position. He fought the urge to straddle his boyfriend’s lap. That would result in reckless rutting, and the last time they’d had a stolen moment together with no Mom or Sam, they hadn’t been able to hold back. Cas had wound up late for his practice and Coach Campbell had chewed his ass out about how even though the season hadn’t officially started, indoor practice was still important. Today, though he didn’t have track, instead he was supposed to meet the rest of his fellow art students and volunteers by 5pm in the props department to finish up a huge mural for the play.

Dean walked Cas to the door and locked his arms around his neck, breathing in cinnamon and cloves. “I miss seeing you,” he whispered and was mortified to hear his voice hitch, but thankfully Castiel knew not to tease, he just held him tighter, swaying lightly. He eventually pulled back, and pressed a kiss to Dean’s forehead. “Love you,” he said as he opened the door, pulling his beige trench coat tightly around himself, the only pop of color besides his bright cobalt eyes.

Dean leaned against the door jam. “Sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Dean asked and Castiel just shook his head.

“No, love, it’s a short walk and I could use the fresh air to clear my head,” Cas winked at him and Dean smiled. “I figure I’ll be back around 8. I should be finished with the last set piece by then, and then I am all yours.” Dean’s mom had an overnight shift and Sammy was at a sleepover at his best friend Brady’ house.

“Okay. Charlie should be gone by then, she has a date. Call if something comes up and Alfie can’t drop you off. I’ll just come and get you,” Dean was ridiculously happy that this would be the last night Cas was needed by the drama department. Dean hadn’t told Castiel, but his past hookup had been going out of his way to be a thorn in Dean’s side. Purposely talking loudly around Dean about Cas’ brilliant work, or how much Cas had made him laugh, or how hot he was, or how Cas had been nice enough to run lines with him while he painted. Charlie told him he should tell his boyfriend, but Dean didn’t see the point. He knew nothing was going on, and he knew that Arthur was just trying to get a rise out of him. Cas already had enough guilt over his promiscuous past,  Dean wasn’t about to make him feel bad because some douche bag was hung up on his boyfriend.

Dean watched out the doorway until Cas was out of sight before going back inside. He glanced at the clock on the DVD player. 4:30.  Plenty of time to throw in a few batches of the lemon honey-drop cookies that Castiel loved so much. The first time he had baked them for him, Dean had nearly died at the pornographic sounds of pleasure coming out of Castiel’s mouth.

Dean was busy getting out the ingredients when Charlie showed up and he gladly roped her into helping. When the doorbell rang a half an hour later, Dean hurried to answer, hands sticky with honey.

“Good, you're back early, you can just suck this-” Dean’s eyes widened at the person on his doorstep. A person who was most definitely not Castiel. “Fetch,” he said tersely. “What are you doing here?”

They both knew it was a deliberate misinterpretation of his name, but Dean took a small amount of pleasure at the annoyed expression on Arthur Ketch’s face. However, the teen did not bother to correct him. Instead, he looked at Dean with what many would say is regret, but Dean suspected was just for show.

“Hello, Dean,” the greeting sounded wrong in the cultured british tones, “I’m here to discuss something with you.”

Dean crossed his arms and leaned against the door jam. “Oh really? And what do we need to discuss?”

Ketch pushed past Dean and walked into the living room. Charlie was still in the kitchen but Dean would stake his life that she was listening at the door.

“Castiel. You need to let him go.”

Dean stared at the teen in front of him in bafflement. The kid tugged at his tie-who the fuck wore a tie for everyday wear anyway?- and had the nerve to look bored.

“I’m sorry, but what the hell are you talking about? Why are you here, in my house talking to me about my boyfriend?”

Ketch smirked at him. “He was my boyfriend first.”

“Please. He was your fuck buddy til he got bored. Is that what this is about? Can’t handle the fact that you were nothing but a stress reliever?  You need to get over it, man.” Dean said, shaking his head and stomach twisting at his own words. He was so tired of thinking about Cas with other people.

Ketch sighed. “Do you really think that what you have is going to last?” he crowded up into Dean’s space and Dean felt his hands curl into fists. “You think he actually cares about your little twink ass? You are nothing but a novelty. Something to break up the monotony. You’re a charity case, the poor nerdy virgin. If you think you are more than that, you are kidding yourself.”

Dean saw Charlie peeking through the doorway of the kitchen and he warned her back with a look before he turned his attention back to the asshat in front of him.

“You know nothing about me and Cas. What he wants, what he needs. You think you have some magical insight because he pity fucked you in the prop room? You think you know him because you and Meg stalk him when he is with his goth crowd? You are pathetic,” Dean spat out, enjoying watching the color rise in Ketch’s face.

“You think I’m pathetic? Where do you think he’s been the past month, huh? Do you really think your precious Castiel has been painting all night? How long do you think it takes to create a couple of backdrops? He’s been with me. Talking to me,” he leered at Dean, licking his lips, “screwing me. Yeah, that got your attention, didn’t it?” he asked nastily as Dean drew up straight eyes widening in disbelieving shock.

“You’re lying,” Dean grit out, fighting every instinct that wanted to punch him in his perfect teeth.

“You keep telling yourself that, Winchester. But lets think about it, shall we? How long did you think your wide-eyed inexperienced self was going to keep him enticed? I bet you couldn’t even dream up the stuff we’ve done together and yet you think you can tie Castiel Novak down?”

Dean felt a wave of nausea at the images Ketch’s words were bringing to the front of his mind.

“I mean, honestly,” the Brit continued, “Why do you think he’s been with so many of us? Our Castiel likes to color with the whole box of crayons,” he finished with a wink.

“He is not ours, he is mine and you need to leave now,” Dean’s voice was shaking with fury.

Ketch’s voice took on a pitying air. “I’m saying this for your own good, Dean, truly. Underneath the make-up and the piercings, he is just a nice guy. My guess is that he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but Cas is feeling suffocated. If you care about him, you’ll let him go. Don’t make him be the bad guy.”

Dean grabbed Ketch by the arm and dragged him to the door. “I said to leave. I’m done with this.”

“Woah,” Ketch had the nerve to laugh. “You’re stronger than you look. Fine, I’ll go. But before you call me a liar, why don’t you take a look at these?” Ketch thrust a handful of photos into Dean’s chest, knocking him back. “Do those look like someone who is happy being in a monogamous relationship?” He didn’t wait for an answer and walked out the front door, his head held high.

Dean looked down at the pictures in his hand, feeling ill and lightheaded all at once.

“Holy shit, dude. What the fuck was that?” Charlie came bursting out of the kitchen but Dean didn’t acknowledge her. He was still too stuck on the pictures. Cas and Ketch kissing. Cas and Ketch topless as they struck a pose for whoever was holding the camera. Cas’ head tipped back as Ketch sucked at his neck. Dean dropped the pictures on the floor as though they had burned him.

“I, uh...I gotta go. I need to get out of here a for a little bit. I’m sorry. Just lock up before you go.”

“Dean, wait,” Charlie said, bending down to scoop up the fallen pictures. “You’re too upset to drive-”

Dean didn’t even look back, he just grabbed his keys and walked out the door.


	11. Chapter 11

_Present_

 

Dean was jolted out of the memory as he got to the entrance of the function hall. A quick scan of the room quickly netted him his husband. He was reclining next to a large window and if he wasn’t mistaken, looked pretty pissed off. The tall brunette next to him seemed to be the recipient of said pissiness. No one did the cold shoulder quite like his Castiel. His warm indigo eyes would turn stormy and blank, his gorgeous, generous mouth would thin into a tight line. His husband was stunning, happy or angry, but Dean was done with the angry for today. All he wanted was to get through this meet and greet so he could take his man back upstairs and kiss apologies into his skin.

Dean swore sometimes that Castiel had some kind of mind reading ability because he looked straight at Dean from across the room and their gazes locked. The man next to Cas turned to look at him as well and Dean couldn’t have been more surprised.

_Well son of a bitch._

Soon, though, Dean found himself amused. It was obvious from the way he was being eye fucked by his husband’s companion, that he did not recognize Dean at all. To be fair, he knew he had changed a lot, physically, in the past 12 years since he’d seen the man. Dean sent Castiel a playful wink and decided to hit the bar before making his way over to where they stood. Dean was beginning to feel like he was in the punchline of some cosmic joke. That was fine. He would just have to make sure he got the last laugh.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling as he watched his husband all but swagger his way over. He chanced a glance at Arthur who was watching Dean as if he was the last zebra and he was a lion about to pounce. _Over my dead body,_ was the thought making a mad dash through Cas’ mind. It was becoming apparent that the man next to him in no way recognized the rugged, walking orgasm heading towards them as the same slight, baby-faced teen from thier youth.

Castiel smiled brightly as Dean walked right into his space, completely ignoring the gobsmacked look on Arthur’s.

“Heya, Cas,” Dean said softly, leaning in for a gentle kiss.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel whispered against’s Dean’s lips.

Dean brought his hands up to cup Cas’ stubbled cheeks, rubbing with the pads of his thumbs. He brought their foreheads together and closed his eyes for a moment before speaking.

“I know why you were upset now. Took me a bit, but I know. I’m sorry, don’t be mad anymore, okay?” Dean’s voice was a husky promise of things to come and Cas nodded against him.

“Of course, beloved.”

The noise of a clearing throat reminded Cas that they weren’t alone. Not that they had really been unaware. Cas just suspected that like him, Dean just hadn’t given a fuck. They both turned to face their unwanted companion, Cas moving to a favored position, his back to Dean’s chest. Dean brought his arms around to encircle his middle as he stared at Arthur with feigned curiosity.

“Well, I take it you know each other,” Arthur said with a artificial laugh. “You could have warned me, Castiel.”

“Do forgive my rudeness. I often forget the presence of others where my love is concerned,” Castiel said, smiling sweetly.

“So you’re very serious, then? Oh dear. Well, I do hope you don’t mind me speaking to Castiel here,“ Arthur said, full attention on Dean now.

“Of course not,” Dean said good naturedly. “Why should I mind?”

“Well, truth be known, he and I were a bit of a thing back in high school,” Arthur’s voice was oil slick but Dean only laughed.

“No offense, man, but you were just one of many,” Dean let go of Cas to hold up his left hand, flashing his ring finger. “I’m the only.”

Castiel nearly laughed out loud at the shocked look on Arthur’s face as his eyes tracked down to Cas’ hand, just noticing the matching ring on his finger.

“Actually, Dean, I’m surprised you don’t remember Arthur here,” Castiel said, laying on the sincerity just a little thick. Cas saw Dean muffle his laugh with a cough before turning his attention back to the now uncomfortable looking man in front of them.

Dean rubbed at his chin, as though pondering. “You know, you do look a little familiar. Wait... Fetch, isn’t it?”

Ketch’s eyes widened in shock and Cas literally had to bite his own tongue to hold back his laughter. The stain of embarrassment flooding the horrid man’s face was well deserved after what he had tried to do them in high school. Cas was not ashamed to take some satisfaction in it after all of these years.

* * *

 

 

_2004_

 

Cas was so glad to finally be done with his work on the backdrops for the play. He loved painting, loved bringing images to life with the flick of a wrist and a pencil or brush. What he did not love was not being able to see Dean. Or being trapped in a room that held a fresh reminder of his mistakes. One main mistake, being Arthur Ketch. The teen had done nothing but be up his ass ever since Cas had started working on the sets. He hadn’t dared to tell Dean, though. He already hated Ketch and was not wrong in his assessment of him being like a dog following Cas around, waiting for scraps or a ball. Figuratively.

He was always coming up with an excuse to talk to him, had even had the teacher ask Cas if he would mind running lines with him. Castiel had grit his teeth and gone along with it because he knew he was almost finished.

So when Castiel left the warmth of Dean’s house for the Autumn chill outside, it was with a skip in his step, knowing that when he returned back to the Winchesters, he’d be curling up with Dean for the rest of the night, no time limit, no little brothers wandering in the room, just the two of them, entwined around each other, watching TV, slowly making love, simply just sleeping together. The thoughts kept him warm for the whole walk to school.

When he arrived in the drama department and saw that Ketch was not there, he nearly did a dance of joy. Cas worked steadily for the next two hours. He didn’t allow himself a break, so eager to just be finished and get going. Alfie was waiting in the library for him to be done. He was a good friend, insisting that he could just as easily study there as well as he could at home, so why not stay and drive Castiel back to Dean’s house afterward.

Castiel went to the supply closet and took out the small bottle of baby oil and carried it with him to the boys room. Sometimes soap and water just didn’t cut it when getting all of the paint off. He used a few drops to loosen the paint dried around his nails. He washed thoroughly and dried his hands before pulling out his phone to text Alfie and tell him he was ready to go. Cas was a little surprised there were no texts from Dean, but he shrugged it off. Why would Dean need to text him when he’d be sleeping at his house anyway?

Cas met Alfie outside of the building with a smile and they rode in companionable silence all the way back to Dean’s. Cas waved goodbye to Alfie as he got out of his car and headed up the Winchester’s driveway. Cas was puzzled as to why the Impala was gone but Charlie’s Gremlin was in Mary Winchester's spot.

Cas quickly jogged up the porch and opened the door to the house, too familiar with the home now to bother with knocking.

“Dean?” he called as he walked through the entrance. Only his boyfriend did not appear to greet him. Instead he saw Charlie pacing back and forth. Until she saw him. Then she became a flurry of red-headed anger, coming at him and hitting him with her tiny fists.

“Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?” Castiel yelled, grabbing Charlie by the wrists, firm enough to pull her off of him but not enough to hurt her. She looked at him, fuming.

“I should be asking you that. How was your ‘set painting’?” she asked, complete with air quotes.

Baffled, Cas air quoted back, “It was ‘fine’. Where is Dean?”

“As if you care,” Charlie said snidely and Castiel rolled his eyes. This was getting tedious.

“Charlie, seriously, what is going on?”

“Why don’t you ask Ketch?” she threw back at him and Cas drew up short at that.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Stop playing dumb, Castiel. You’re smarmy boyfriend was here. He told Dean everything.”

Castiel was really starting to lose his patience. “Charlie. What the actual fuck are you talking about? Told Dean everything about what?”

Something in his tone seemed to have an effect on the young girl because instead of just deflecting with nonsense sentences she stalked over to grab something off of the coffee table.  

“Care to explain these, Casanova?” she asked, voice clipped as she handed him some pictures. Castiel looked down at them and the bottom dropped out of his stomach. He could feel the color draining from his face.

“Where did you get these?” Castiel could hear how his voice was breathless, weak.

“Oh, Ketch brought them by for Dean. Just an extra fuck you after telling him how the two of you have been screwing behind his back because you're so bored with Dean and his inexperience,” Charlie spat out viciously and Castiel felt sick. His knees gave away and he sank down on the couch.

“Charlie, I am not cheating on Dean. I would never do that. He is my whole world,” Cas said brokenly.

“What about those, then,” she asked, indicating the pictures.

“These are over a year old. Meg took them, they were meant to have been deleted,” Cas buried his face in his hands. He felt the couch dip as Charlie came and sat next to him. She tentatively rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I didn’t mean to think the worst, it’s just the pictures...and Dean is my best friend and I just get overprotective of him,” Charlie said softly, some shame coating her words. Cas dragged his fingers down his face and shook his head.

“Don’t apologize to me for protecting him. But please, tell me where he went?”

“I don’t know,” she said helplessly. “He was holding his own for awhile. Ketch kept saying stuff like you not wanting to be in a monogamous relationship, how you felt suffocated, and Dean was having none of it. Called him a liar, told him to get out of the house,” Charlie’s eyes were bright with pride and Cas felt a little stirring of hope that deep down Dean actually believed, knew that Cas would not be unfaithful. “But when Ketch gave him those pictures…” Cas felt the hope die at the somberness of Charlie’s words, “he just shut down. He kind of just dropped them on the floor and set he had to go. He asked me to lock up because I had a date with Krissy tonight, but I was too afraid to leave. I wanted to be here in case he came back and shit went down between you.”

Castiel smiled at her, weakly. “You’re a  good friend, Bradbury. But I think maybe you should take off. I need to fix things with Dean, and I’d rather do so without an audience.”

Charlie nodded before enveloping him in a hug. For a minute he just sat there, arms at his sides and she giggled in his ear. “This the part where you hug back, dummy.”

“I knew that,” Castiel grumbled, bringing his arms up and hugging her back, taking a bit of comfort in the fact that she now believed him.

“One of you call me or text me to let me know everything's okay later on.” With one last sad look, Charlie grabbed her coat and headed out the door.  All Cas could do now was wait.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. He’d only been wearing a hole in the carpet for about fifteen minutes when the front door opened.

Castiel froze as Dean walked into the living room. His moss green eyes went wide with shock, obviously surprised to see him standing there. Castiel swallowed harshly before words began tumbling out of his mouth.

“Dean. Dean, it’s not true. You have to believe me. I would never, ever cheat on you. Not in a million years. I had no idea he was that obsessed-that he would go to such lengths to try and break us up. But I swear to God, I am not bored or suffocated or anything like that. I love you, you’re everything to me, please, please do-” Castiel got no further than that because Dean was up in his space and his face was being cupped by rough hands and his mouth was being plundered by a slick wet tongue as Dean crowded against him until he fell back on the couch. Dean followed him down, straddling his lap as he continued to kiss him, filthily, druggingly, pulling soft whimpers and moans from Cas’ throat. He fisted his hands in Dean's hair, tugging at it as his mouth continued to be claimed. Dean was making a statement, sucking on his tongue, stealing his breath and only when Castiel was at the point of  lightheadedness did Dean pull back.

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean was murmuring against his lips. “Shh, baby, it’s okay.” Castiel only became aware that he was crying when he felt Dean’s thumbs brushing away his tears. “I’m sorry I wasn’t home when you got here. I thought you’d be later than this, I thought I’d have more time,”  Dean said softly as he continued to wipe at Cas’ face, the pads of his thumbs turning black from Cas’ eyeliner.

“Where did you go?” Cas asked, voice shaky. “Charlie said you left.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean began, a sheepish look on his face. “I got pretty mad after the douchecanoe left, and I didn’t want to be so angry when you got home, so I just had to go out. I needed to take a drive,” Dean sat back a little and reached out to card a hand through Cas’ hair. He sighed at the welcome touch, closing his eyes briefly. “I was trying to decide whether or not to tell you, or just let it go like all the other crap he’s been spouting all year.”

Cas’ eyes popped open. “Wait, you weren’t sure you were going to tell me?”

“What would have been the point? He’s a lying bag of dicks. He’s been spreading rumors about us since we came back from summer vacation. Why should I upset you because your ex is a loser who can’t deal with reality?”

Castiel pulled Dean down into a tight embrace causing  him to make a “oomff” sound. He buried his face in Dean’s neck, soothed by his sandalwood and leather smell. He’d believed in him. Dean hadn’t bought a word Ketch had said and instead believed in them and their relationship. The joy of that knowledge brought with it, a fresh onslaught of tears.

“Hey, hey,” Dean said soothingly, running his hand up and down Cas’ spine. “No more of that. We’re fine, okay. I know you,” Dean pulled back and again cupped Cas’ face. “I know you,” he said again, whispering this time. “You  love me. I may not always get why, but I know that you do. You wouldn't do that to me.”

“I wouldn't, Dean I swear it.”

“I know. We’re fine. I promise.”

“The pictures,” Castiel started, shame spiking in his voice.

“They were old, I could tell. Your hair was different. The hickey I gave you a few days ago,” Dean traced the side of Cas’ neck with a smirk,” it wasn’t there. It wouldn’t have mattered, even if I couldn’t tell. I never would have believed they were recent. Just burn em, baby.” Dean said with a smile and Cas chuckled lightly.

“So what do you think we should do about Ketch?” Castiel asked, worrying his piercing with his tongue and Dean shrugged his shoulders, slipping off of Cas’ lap and holding out his hand. Castiel grabbed it, allowing himself to be pulled up.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Don’t talk to him, look at him, acknowledge him. Don’t let him think in any way what he tried to do had any impact on our lives whatsoever. “

Castiel smiled at that, his chest finally loosening, his brain finally catching on that everything really was going to be okay.

“Alright, I can do that. But now, I need you to do something for me,” Cas rasped out, tugging at Dean’s hand until he followed him towards the stairs.

“Sure, Cas, anything.”

Cas stopped halfway up the stairs, pushing Dean firmly against the wall and stole a quick, biting kiss. “Open me up and show me who I belong to,” Cas whispered hotly against Dean’s mouth and his boyfriend needed no further instruction _._


	12. Chapter 12

_ _

 

 

_ Present. _

 

Despite the horrendous part of the day, that had been one of the best nights of Castiel’s life. As he looked back on it, and then noticed the mortified expression on Arthur's face as he realized that Cas was married to none other than Dean Winchester, he felt the anger drain away. Instead he laughed. He laughed so hard he doubled over and Dean soon joined him, because when one of them fell apart like that, the other always soon followed.  They held each other up as they tried to catch their breath between hiccuping chortles, never even taking notice when Ketch slinked away.

“Hey,” Dean managed to get out between burst of mirth, “How long do we have to stay at this thing til I can take you upstairs?  I have a lot of skin to mark up before you show off your tattoos tomorrow.” Dean waggled his eyebrows and Castiel laced his fingers with Dean’s. He glanced around the room, and watched all of the people mingling.

“Fuck it,” Cas said, pulling Dean from the room with a laugh. “Let’s go.”

  
  


Anticipation sang in Castiel’s body as he recognized the hungry look in his husband’s eyes. Their hands clasped tightly as Dean all but dragged him into the elevator, hitting the close button before anyone could dare to come on. Dean pushed him roughly against the wall as they climbed floor after floor and Castiel let out a dark chuckle as Dean leaned in to nip at his bottom lip, tonguing at the cool metal. It took a long time for Dean to build up the confidence to be more dominant in the bedroom, to realize that yes, he could take what he wanted because Castiel was always happy to give it to him. Dean crowded in closer, fingers digging into Cas’ hips, and he knew there would be bruises in the morning. Dean kissed him, full, lush lips sliding against each other, teasing swipes of his tongue darting into Castiel’s mouth and making him crave more. 

When the elevator dinged, Castiel wasted no time in pulling Dean by the hand down the hall until they reached their room. Once inside, there were no words. Shoes were slipped off in the entranceway before they padded silently into the bedroom. Their eyes locked on each other as they removed their clothing, not touching, just watching. Castiel felt a shiver course through his body as Dean slipped his boxers over his hips to pool on the floor. His hard cock slapped against his belly and Cas found himself licking his lips.

Dean’s mouth turned up in a cocky smile. “Like what you see?” he teased, the first to break the silence.

Castiel only laughed as he finished undressing himself and slid back onto the bed.  He felt his body flush as Dean just gazed at him for a moment. He imagined he looked rather debauched. No doubt his eyeliner was smudged, and his lips were swollen. His own cock was curved towards himself, blushing and dripping. Cas bit his lip as Dean sighed.

“I swear, you’re unreal. How the hell are you mine?” he asked again for the millionth time. Cas watched as Dean reached down to grab the duffel bag that had been tossed near the bed. He fished a bottle of lube out of the side pocket.

“I see that never made it to the bathroom counter,” Castiel said, adding a sassy wink as Dean crawled up onto the bed. He straddled Cas’ lap, and leaned over, caging his face between his forearms. Dean pressed an open mouthed kiss to Cas’ pulse point before murmuring “I know how you are about bathroom sex.” Dean tousled Cas’ already messy bedhead affectionately. “You know, for a nail polish wearing rebel, you are awful prudish when it comes to sex outside of the bedroom.”

Castiel  kicked at Dean’s calf with his heel. “Shut up. You know that most household accidents occur in the bathroom, Dean, this isn’t news. Besides, we most definitely HAVE had plenty of sex not in the bedroom. Shall I list the whens and wheres?” Castiel felt Dean shaking with laughter against his neck. He kicked at him again. “Cut it out, or I am going to lose wood, beloved,” Castiel said crudely, not able to stop the wide smile as Dean threw his head back, laughing out loud now.

“Well, we don’t want that, now do we?” Dean propped himself up on his knees, letting his hands drag down Cas’ body. Castiel sucked in a breath as Dean pinched and tugged at his nipples.

“Definitely not,” Cas sighed out. Dean scooted back more, falling forward to trail kisses down Cas’ sternum, stopping to nip and suck where he chose. Castiel’s  back bowed as Dean mouthed further down, hand gripping Cas’ cock and stroking it lightly. As the head peeked out, Dean leaned down to lick at the slit and Castiel hissed. Dean swirled his tongue around before sucking gently at the head and Castiel panted harshly.

Dean manuevered himself between Cas’ legs and ran his fingers up and down his thighs.

“Hand me a pillow, baby.”

Castiel reached beside himself and handed Dean one of the bed pillows. Dean urged him to lift so he could place it underneath of him. Cas spread his legs, feet planted as Dean peppered his inner thighs with warm kisses. Cas let himself relax back onto the bed, loving the feeling of Dean’s mouth on his body and caresses on his skin.  When Dean pushed at his inner thigh area, Cas knew what he wanted him to do. Cas hooked his arms under his knees and pulled his legs back to his chest, baring himself to his husband. He moaned unashamedly as Dean circled his rim with the tip of his finger.  He felt the scruff of Dean’s five o’clock shadow on his skin as he leaned in to lap at Cas’ rosebud. One of the best things about Dean was that when he loved, he loved with everything, be it his heart or his body. Dean sucked at Cas’ furled entrance, tongue tracing the wrinkled skin before darting inside.  Castiel gyrated shallowly against Dean’s mouth as he ate him out, sucking and tonguing his hole the way Dean would Cas’ mouth. Castiel made aborted whimpers as Dean’s thumbs spread him wide, gently nipping at the tight ring of muscle. Castiel heard the snick of a bottle being opened and soon felt the slick tip of Dean’s finger work its way inside to join his tongue. Dean gently stretched him open, massaging Cas’ walls in between kisses, and Castiel soon found himself riding the long digits inside of him, doing their best to take him apart. When Dean rubbed against his prostate he keened, and Castiel felt Dean smile against his fluttering pucker.

Dean didn’t have to ask, he knew Cas’ body as well as his own, and he knew that Cas was ready. Castiel watched, licking his lips, as Dean used more lube to slicken his cock. Dean spread Castiel’s thighs wider, extending his legs out. Dean hunched over to give him a hot, filthy kiss before straightening back up to nudge his cockhead at Cas’ entrance. They both groaned, low when Dean breached his hole, sinking in in one slick slide. Dean started with shallow thrusts that Castiel chased, hips lifting in unison. The only noise in the room was their harsh breathing and the wet sound of flesh slapping flesh.

“Deeper,” Cas groaned out, “Go deeper,” and Dean hitched Cas’ legs over his forearms without question. The effect was immediate and Cas let out a guttural moan as the new angle had the head of Dean’s cock grinding into his prostate. “That’s right, love, just like that.”

Dean surged forward and took Cas’ mouth in a heated kiss, his tongue dancing with Cas’, a slow ballet of dips and swirls. All the while, he pistoned forward, the drag of his cock slamming in and out of his body deliciously.  Castiel arched his back, a chant of “ _ Unh, unh, unh _ ,” pouring from his lips.

“Fuck, Cas, you’re so,  _ ah, _ so gorgeous. Gorgeous and mine,” Dean said breathlessly, thrusts becoming jerky.

“Yours,” Castiel sighed back. “Always yours.”

Dean, anticipating Cas’ body again, pulled back enough to work a hand between their bodies. As his fingers closed around Castiel’s hot member, he wailed. Dean stroked him in time with his thrusts and the base sounds of their grunts and sighs filled the room like a symphony. A particularly hard thrust had Cas seeing stars as his cock erupted, come pouring out over Dean’s fist as Cas gasped for air. He grasped at Dean’s arms, fingers digging in. He could feel his husband’s arms shaking as he continued to push and pull, working Cas through his orgasm, before taking his own pleasure. Cas ran sweat slickened hands down Dean’s back, and palmed his delectable ass.

“Come on, my love, come on. You can let go now.” And let go he did, with a long, drawn out groan. Cas felt Dean pulsing inside of him, the warmth of his release coating his walls, and he spasmed around Dean’s dick at the feeling.

Castiel wasn’t sure how long they laid there, sweat cooling on their skin, his come growing tacky between them. His heart was still roaring in his ears and he could hear that Dean’s breathing was still harsh. Castiel must have nodded off because he was brought back to awareness when he felt a warm cloth swiping between his thighs, and over his no doubt puffy entrance. The come that had dried on his tummy was gone. He smiled lazily at Dean who was gazing at him as though he hung the moon.

“I love how you look at me,” Cas found himself saying, popping his tongue ring against his teeth and Dean just smiled at him, sappily.

“Yeah, well, you should be used to it by now,” he said with a soft laugh and Cas cocked a pierced brow at him.

“As should you,” he said, knowing that Dean did not have the monopoly on lovesick staring contests, or as Sam often so eloquently put it, “eye fucking.”

Dean tossed the cloth over towards the bathroom door before he settled over Cas, brushing his lips over his softly, tongue peeking out to tease at Cas’ lip ring. “Well, that’s why we are perfect for each other,” Dean pressed his forehead to Cas’ and Castiel sighed, content and sated. “You’re my only, too,” he said and Castiel swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“I’m the only,” he whispered back.

  
  


The end.


End file.
